Cling and Clatter
by YunaDax
Summary: Returning from Mirkwood Legolas and Aragron find more trouble than they bargined for. Ch14 up.
1. The Village

Title – Cling and Clatter 

Author – Jules

Rating – MA 15+ for mature themes, violence, angst, slavery etc

Disclaimer –All things Rings-ish are property of JRR Tolkein. I'm just playing with them... I'll return them (slightly ruffled) to the playbox when I'm done. Song lyrics featured are from LifeHouse's album No Name Face, the song is titled 'Simon'

Summery – Legolas has been forced into a slave labour camp. Your basic kind of angst, slavery (no slash) fic. This is a kind of follow on from my last LOTR fic titled 'Faded Ashes'. This fic can stand on its own, but it does mention events from the Faded Ashes fic, so it might help if you've read that! 

Authors Notes – The lyrics from this just leapt out and grabbed me while driving along in the car and the fic kinda built itself around them. 

Dedication – To Sonbon, Camster, Katie, and the Ratpak girls, you keep me sane!

Cling and Clatter

Chapter One. – The Village

**__**

Catch your breath

hit the wall

scream out loud

as you start to crawl

back in your cage

the only place

where they will

leave you alone

He trudged his way back to his cell, iron ankle shackles clanking like an audible reminder of his imprisonment. Like he needed reminding. It had been 6 months that he'd been forced to work as slave labour, tending fields, breaking in horses and doing general ill work. He was one of many slaves in the heinous village; each forced to do menial or physical labour as 'payment' for encroaching upon the lands of the village. Most were travelers, much like himself, not knowing the so called 'hospitality' was a ruse, drugging travelers with meals and drink, chaining them, and setting them to work in the fields. 

The people of the village had a relatively easy life, spending their time wining, dining and dancing away the hours while their free-labour toiled and provided for the community. It was a village based on deceit, the villagers being content to 'recruit' workers, and the workers not having any say in the matter at all. 

He'd had nearly escaped once, making it out of the cell blocks and into the stables before one of the guards placed a well aimed arrow into the back of his thigh, easily incapacitating him. They'd put him in solid iron ankle and wrist shackles after that as punishment, only releasing him when he was locked within the confines of the enclosed roundyard while breaking a horse. 

It was a humiliating existence, first losing his home and family, and now returning for the anniversary of the incident, he was enslaved by hostile villagers and forced to do work not worthy of hobbits and elvish fieldsmen. 

He fell onto the hard mat on the floor that served as a bed, ignoring his aching muscles and joints as they impacted with the almost solid surface. His eyes started to glaze over in sleep as his pathetic excuse for a meal was shoved under the bars of his door. He hurt all over, even his elven stamina was nothing compared with an endless barrage of ill-tempered, badly handled horses that were to be broken in. All were sent to the human breakers first, and finding them far too dangerous to continue with, were sent onto Legolas. So frightened were the poor beasts that they resorted to using their heels and teeth to ward off any oncomer, including the Elf. He had tried talking to them, easing their fears before attempting to strap the hideous excuse for leatherwear onto their backs and around their faces. Elvish horses needed none of the barbaric devices that the villagers used, yet he'd long ago given up trying to teach these horses the Elven way. The poor beasts would be sent almost straight back to him, along with 50 lashings for not doing the job properly. He ended up using a combination of both Elvish and Human training methods, finally making the poor animals accept the saddle, bridle and harness.

Groaning slightly he reached out a bruised hand towards the chipped grotty bowl that contained the pitiful excuse of his meal. A watery broth and a soggy piece of bread were his rations for the entire day, barely keeping him functioning, let alone allowing him the energy he needed to formulate an escape plan. To him, this was a never-ending cycle of brutality, slavery and hopelessness. 

Not even bothering to sit up he slowly ate his meal, ignoring the bad taste and stale smell of the bread. He knew it was either that or nothing, which he had of course tried at the beginning, earning him more lashings for fainting in the field due to malnutrition. 

Setting the now empty bowl back near the door he stretched out on the thin mattress, reliving the joyous events of his past in his mind, the Fellowship, his first bullseye, beating his brother in archery. His mind wandered until the exhaustion brought slumber to him, his body trying in vain to recuperate before the next day.

**__**

'Cause the weak will seek the weaker until they've broken them

could you get it back again

would it be the same

Dawn arrived with the usual ringing of the 'waking' bell; its harsh clanging enough to rattle the bones let one wake anyone up. Groaning with effort Legolas rose to stand by his door, ready for the guards to take him to the roundyard for another day of breaking. Following the harsh tug on his chains he followed the guard down the dank corridor, not paying attention to the other slaves the guard collected on his way past the cells. It was customary to gather all the slaves doing the same chore at once, less effort for the guards of course. 

A tall dark human was pulled from a nondescript dark cell, almost colliding with Legolas as his chains received a sharp yank. The battered human muttered something by the way of an apology when Legolas noticed something different about him. He looked slightly familiar, yet it was obvious he was not coping with the harsh life of the slaves. His face, hands and clothing bore the marks of numerous lashings, as did the haunting look in his eyes. Dismissing the thought that someone might actually KNOW him here Legolas continued after the guard, knowing that if he were caught hesitating he would be lashed again. 

It was no surprise when the human was roughly pushed into the same roundyard as the Elf, the guard muttering something about 'stupid human might fair better with the nags' as he locked and bolted the only door, leaving the two alone with a selection of angry and frightened equines.

To Be Continued when muse returns. 

All feedback much appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com 


	2. For Better or Worse

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter Two – For Better or Worse

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13

Disclaimer – Tolkien owns all.

Summery – Enslaved within a society where innocent travelers are forced into slavery, Legolas must find a way to endure and survive.

Authors Notes – This is part of a series, it would make much more sense if you read the first chapter before trying to read this one. This fic is also based on slavery, lots of gore, depression, brutality etc etc.. If this isn't your cup of tea, go for coffee someplace else...

Dedication – The Ratpak Gals, Sonbon, Camster and Katiemunchkin.

****

Cling and Clatter

Chapter 2

For Better or Worse

__

Fulfillment to their lack of strength at your expense

Left you with no defense, they tore it down.

Legolas sighed and moved towards the horses, wanting the day to be over as quickly as possible. He didn't care what the human did; he was yet another one the guards obviously wanted to him to teach his skills too. He cared little for other beings these days; it was hard enough looking out for himself let alone anyone else. There had been a day when he would have given his life for another without question though times had changed and this was no longer the case. Protecting another in this hell usually meant double lashings for both parties. In three thousand years he had never felt so browbroken, so pathetic and used as he did now. He cursed under his breath at the villagers and guards as he laid a hand upon the horses' neck, only to have it turn on him, teeth napping at his shirt, missing his flesh by a hairsbreadth. He retreated a step and spoke softly to the frightened animal, his voice visibly calming the creature as it flicked its ears forwards towards the sound. He kept speaking quietly as he hauled the heavy leatherwear from its housing in the side of the yard, grunting with effort as he lifted it onto the animal's back. The horse stood still, fearful, but now trusting the elf as he moved around tightening straps and fastening buckles. 

**__**

And I have felt the same, as you I've felt the same, As you I've felt the same

The human watched in fascination, amazed by the ability this Elf had with equines. He had seen it only once before, in a friend of his long lost. He picked up the heavy bridle from the sand and handed it to the Elf, startling him with his presence. He tried to look upon the face of the once fair creature, only to find it smeared with grime, sweat and blood. It was impossible to tell the identity of the Elf from his features or his voice. Legolas caught him looking and questioned him as to his motives. Sighing slightly as if in deep regret the human answered accordingly, claiming he was in the process of looking for an Elf when he was captured himself. Legolas arched an eyebrow as he gently opened the horse's mouth and slipped the rusted metal inside, minding his fingers as the animal clenched its jaws closed. The human continued, explaining the story of a long lost friend who had departed Lothlorien over six moons ago, never to be seen since. A flicker of hope ignited within Legolas' cold heart, was this human looking for him? He remembered leaving Lothlorien to return to the ashes of his fallen home when he had been captured. Of course the Lady of the Wood would be worried about him as he has assured her he would return in three weeks at the most. That would have been over six months ago now.

There was still something about the human that seemed familiar, the hair was much longer than he remembered, the beard and moustache more pronounced, and the eye which once were bright were dark and haunted, yet now he could see the similarities clearly. This was Aragorn, his travelling companion of long ago. The flicker of recognition in his eyes was reflected in Aragorn's as well. Both delighted to see each other, yet horrified at the level of being both had descended into. Glancing around him Legolas whispered to his old friend, telling him to not act like they knew of each other for fear of being separated yet again. If they worked well together and nothing more, maybe the guards would let them remain working together, thus between them they may be able to formulate a method of escaping. Long had it been since Legolas had thought of escape, yet now with Aragorn here, beaten as they both were, something deadly to the guards flickered within their hearts and minds. Hope.

**__**

Locked inside the only place,

where you feel sheltered, you feel safe

you lost yourself in your search to find

something else to hide behind

As the Dusk bell clanged its clamour through the village the two bruised and weary slaves joined the ranks of their foul smelling companions as the group was marched back to the cells. The human had emerged with 4 bites and 3 kicks, while the Elf wielded an ugly bleeding wound on his thigh where he hadn't been quick enough to dodge incoming hooves. He limped slightly as they trudged through the dimly lit corridors, stopping off at the respective cells to throw its occupant back inside for the evening. He glanced at Aragorn as he was roughly shoved within his stone and iron cage, his eyes thanking him for the inkling of hope that now surged through his being. Another corner was rounded and he too was thrown within the cage he called home. He sank down onto the thin mattress, resting his weary body before his meal was pushed through the door. If they were lucky a bucket of cold water would also be pushed through in which to clean themselves, though this was rare, as it required much labour for the guards. No bucket appeared that night, only the small bowl containing cold broth and stale bread.

For the first time in weeks Legolas actually wished for the cold water of the bucket. He hadn't cared much for his appearance until now, usually too exhausted and lacking the will to live to bother. Now that Aragorn was with him, sharing this experience of hell, he found a reason to start looking after himself again. His previous thoughts of self-preservation turned to concern for his companions' well being, yet he dared not show it in front of the guards. Finishing his meal he shoved the bowl back towards the door and examined where the horse had kicked him. The wound had stopped bleeding, but was still very much inflamed and sore. He could tell it was going to get infected and thus become even more painful before his somewhat weakened healing abilities kicked in, as he had nothing with which to clean the wound and prevent infection from taking hold in the first place. Ignoring the pain as best he could he reclined and dozed for the rest of the night, this thoughts turning back to the time of the Fellowship and battles of good.

**__**

The fearful always preyed upon your confidence

didn't they see the consequence,

when they pushed you around?

The morning bell clinged and clattered its echoes through the dim walls, waking the unfortunate souls within their walls for another day of slavery. Legolas awoke to find his brow slick with sweat, his thigh's previous ache now a dull roar of pain within his body. He sat up stiffly, pushing aide the slight feeling of nausea as he did so. Pulling back the flat of pantleg to reveal the new festering wound beneath, Legolas cursed softly, angry with his body for being so weak and unable to heal itself. Before he could properly inspect the wound again the guard unlocked the door to his cell and reached in, the large grimy hand finding itself a handful of once blonde hair. The rough hand pulled him to his feet, shoving the unfortunate Elf out the door and into the small throng of prisoners already in the corridor. He swayed slightly as his feet refused to obey him, being caught by another slave before he tumbled to the ground. 

Aragorn was ready when the guard unlocked his celldoor. He obediently stepped outside into the congregation without resistance, spotting the elf leaning against the wall furthest from the guards. The guard moved onto the next cell, allowing Aragorn to make his way to the Elf without being noticed. Legolas' face was far paler than normal, a thin sheen of sweat also covered his skin adding to the concern now raging within the human's mind. He wished desperately for some way to aid his friend, for some herbs, or better yet, a healer, but knew neither was likely in their current environment. 

A short march later they were shoved in the same roundyard as the day before, with the same horses plus a few new ones. Legolas moved to the horses again, slipping a leather halter on one and leading it over to wear the saddle was kept. The animal having had the saddle on yesterday did not object as the bulky heavy object was placed and secured onto his back, yet Aragorn who was working with another of the horses noticed the way Legolas leaned heavily on the horse after hoisting the leatherwear. Legolas seemed to take longer than usual to prepare himself for the 'first ride' as well, seemingly summing up his strength to mount the horse and hold on as the flurry of bucks and rears erupted. His body sagged as he pulled himself into the saddle, the animal listening to the words he spoke softly, but also waiting for the chance to rid itself of this being on its back. Words not working the Elf gently nudged his lower calf and heel into the side of the creature, encouraging it forward, rewording it with kind words and pats as the animal stepped forward. Again he encouraged until they had completed a lap of the roundyard at a somewhat jerky walk. Knowing the guards would want the horse ready in another two days he applied his heels again, hoping for a trot, but instead getting a series of severe bucks. He desperately clung to the saddle and leaned back to keep himself balanced and seated, succeeding for a short time before the horse threw in a twist to one of the bucks, unseating him and sending him hurtling towards the sand. He landed in an ungraceful heap, groaning as the world turned different shades of green, blue and black before his eyes. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to live. He heard footsteps hurrying towards him and cracked open a sand-encrusted eyelid. Aragorn's sandy boots approached and stopped before him, gentle hands filled his vision as the human checked him for broken bones. Not having the strength to object he consented to the examination. Aragorn felt along his companion's body, relieved to find no breaks but ever more concerned at the now sandfilled wound that had reopened, spilling red onto the golden sand of the yard. As he rolled Legolas onto his side Aragorn heard the bolted door of the roundyard slide open.

To be continued 

feedback much appreciated to yunadax@bigpond.com

**__**


	3. The Finality of Death

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter Three – The Finality of Death

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13

Disclaimer – Tolkien owns all.

Summery – Enslaved within a society where innocent travelers are forced into slavery, Legolas must find a way to endure and survive.

Authors Notes – Firstly, this is a short chapter, the next one should be much longer, but I'm writing this in progression and the action contained within seemed to fit the length. This is part of a series, it would make much more sense if you read the first two chapters before trying to read this one. This fic is also based on slavery, lots of gore, depression, brutality etc etc.. If this isn't your cup of tea, go for coffee someplace else...

Dedication – The Ratpak Gals, Camster and Katiemunchkin. Special ta to Sonbon, you rock girl... so long as I can pick your brains for inspo :) 

****

Cling and Clatter

Chapter 3

The Finality of Death

**__**

The arrogant build kingdoms made of the different ones

breaking them till they've become

Just another crown.

Legolas moaned softly as he heard the wooden bolt shifting in its keeper. The guards were checking up on them and he was still flat on his back in the sand, lacking the strength or the will power to rise. Aragorn was hunched over him, concern written across his features yet hiding his obvious fear as the sand whispered in the wake of the guard. The human made a small gesture with his hand, indicating what he wanted Legolas to do as the guard approached, the ominous presence bearing down on the two. On command the Elf's blue eyes rolled backwards, his eyes closing and his body going limp.

" What's wrong with him?" the guards thunderous voice demanded, stopping just behind Aragorn then bending closer to the see the apparently unconscious elf better. Aragorn made a show of looking utterly distressed, tears rolling down his cheeks as he cradled his companions' body, hiding his repulsiveness as the offensive odour of unwashed guard invaded his nostrils. 

" He's dying" the human stuttered, almost pleased with amount of distress he added to his voice. He truly was concerned about the Elf's wellbeing, but if him playing the beaten slave trying to help another got Legolas to a healer, well the show of weakness would be a blessing. Gambling this his show of companionship wouldn't earn them both the usual lashings or worse he turned as faced the guard, showing the salty tears glistening down his cheeks. The guard snorted and started to turn away, tossing Aragorn a knife in the process.

" He's as good as dead anyway, finish him off" 

Aragorn truly looked horrified as the knife landed in the bloody sand. This was NOT how he had expected events to turn. The guard was supposed to either allow them to see a healer, or wait till Legolas 'died dramatically in his arms' then allow him to bury his companion. Gulping he grasped the knife, and turned back to the guard, clearly showing the very real angst written over his features.

" Please Sir, allow me a moment to say some words before I do as you ask" Aragorn pleaded. The guard hurrumphed and headed towards the doors, muttering a 'be quick' before closing them and allowing them a grudging moments privacy. 

A moment later a guttwrenching scream erupted from behind the wooden doors, followed by a pitiful wailing. Knowing the Elf would now be dead the guard pushed open the heavy doors, but saw only the now very much bloodied form of the fallen elf sprawled on the sand, a stab wound clearly showing on his chest. He moved towards the body for a closer look, forgetting momentarily about the human with the knife creeping up from behind the now open doors. The guard reached the body which was looking very dead, nudged it a few times with his boot before he saw the glint of steel in the sunlight. He slumped forward as the blade met his throat, neatly slicing his corotid artery and he fell utop of now moving Elf. His mind vaguely registered the fact that the dead Elf was now alive before shutting down completely. 

Legolas moaned as the large form of the guard landed across his lower body, pressing his wound once again into the sand. With help from Aragorn he slid the hulking corpse off himself, then using the human as a lever tried to regain his feet. He swayed unsteadily, the edges of his vision blurring in pain and infection and making it hard to focus. He leaned heavily on his human companion and they stumbled towards the horses. Aragorn hurriedly saddled one of the quieter animals and with great effort, pushed the uncoordinated elf into the saddle. Forgetting his own aches and pains he swiftly mounted, holding the elf in front of him as he nudged the horse in the ribs. With a small buck of protest they careened out of the roundyard, spraying sand in all directions as the flurry of hooves raced them towards their target. 

**__**

Refuse to feel, anything at all

refuse to slip, refuse to fall

Can't be weak, can't stand still

You watch your back

To be continued 

feedback much appreciated to yunadax@bigpond.com

**__**


	4. Insurrection

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter Four – Insurrection

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13

Disclaimer – Tolkien owns all., The song is from LifeHouse, the album is No Name Face, and the song in Simon. They rock.

Summery – Enslaved within a society where innocent travelers are forced into slavery, Legolas must find a way to endure and survive.

Authors Notes –EEK! Two Chapters in two days, Muse must be back! This is part of a series, it would make much more sense if you read the first three chapters before trying to read this one. This fic is also based on slavery, lots of gore, depression, brutality etc etc.. If this isn't your cup of tea, go for coffee someplace else...

Dedication – The Ratpak Gals, Camster and Katiemunchkin. Special ta to Sonbon, you rock girl... so long as I can pick your brains for inspo :) 

****

Cling and Clatter

Chapter 4

Insurrection

**__**

Refuse to feel, anything at all

refuse to slip, refuse to fall

Can't be weak, can't stand still

You watch your back

Cos no-one will

The clatter of hooves was a most unusual sound that greeted the ears of the few guards on watch. Rare was it that any horse entered the cell block, and even then it was either the village elders or a wild beast that had escaped the roundyards. Curious they left their posts and ventured into the dark corridor, barely able to make out the figures approaching. Before they could draw their swords the horse was upon them, its shoes sending sparks flying as it skidded around the corner. The rider leaned low out of the saddle, using the animals' momentum to aid the vicious swing of his knife. The dull thump of a head landing beside the feet who owned it was drowned out as the rattle of hooves on stone echoed throughout the passageways. His fellow guard could only watch in horror as his junior officer was decapitated by a shadowy figure on a horse, then he noticed the second figure, much thinner that the other, yet with blonde hair and pointed ears. Before he could add the two together the horse was gone, bearings it riders ever closer to freedom. His mind mentally placed the blonde pointy eared one as one who worked in the breaking yards, under the watch of a few of his own underlings. Knowing there was nothing he could do for the decapitated body in front of him he ran towards the roundyards, needing to know how the two prisoners escaped and hopefully giving those responsible a good lashing. Rounding the corner to the Elf's usual working yard he knew something was amiss. The doors hung open and when he peered in, the sight of a dead guard, surrounded by a mass of bloodied sand greeted his eyes. No he would not be giving a good lashing today.

Aragorn held the skittish horse steady as the small square of light grew rapidly larger in front of them, he knew the entrance was protected by two guards who would have been alerted to their presence by the noise they created. He repeated his earlier move of striking out with the knife on one side, while this time kicking his foot out of the stirrup at just the right time so as it connected with the head of the guard on the opposing side, effectively rendering both hulking natives harmless. They galloped onwards, finally leaving the horror of the cells behind them as they streaked away in a random direction, not caring where they ended up as long as it was far from where they had been. 

A short time into the ride Aragorn felt Legolas slump forward in the saddle, nearly falling had he not been supported from behind by the human. The Ranger knew stopping this close to the village was still dangerous as the guards would be well and truly aware of the carnage they left during their departure. Wrapping both his arms around the elf and holding the reins in front of his companion they galloped on, putting more distance between the themselves and the village with each passing stride.

Hours later the Ranger checked the pace of the horse back to a walk, fairly confident in the fact that they would not be found. He had used rocky paths, streams and steep inclines to cover the tracks of their passage, and knew that even an experienced Ranger would have a time tracking them. Finding a green glen by a stream Aragorn pulled the steed to a halt, first sliding off himself before easing the limp form of his companion out of the saddle. He laid Legolas gently on the ground before quickly tying the horse to a tree, feeling slightly guilty as the animal's flanks heaved for breath and dripped with sweat. His priorities reasserted themselves as his gaze returned to the unconscious Elf. He moved and knelt by his friends' side, wishing desperately for his healing herbs as he took in the diaphoretic skin and the sand encrusted festering wound. As gently as he could he tore the surrounding cloth from around the kick site, and used a piece of his own tattered shirt to soak in the stream. Lifting the now soaked rag he squeezed the liquid over the wound, using the pressure of the fluid to clean the majority of the sand away. He thanked Valar that his friend was unconscious, and knew if it were otherwise, the screams of the elf would be echoing around the surrounding hillside. Having cleared most of the sand away he rinsed the cloth and as carefully as his shaking hands would allow he cleaned the remaining sand, blood and dead tissue away, hoping the Elf's healing ability would now be able to handle a clean wound. 

**__**

You don't know why they had to go this far,

traded your worth for these scars

for your only company.

It was many hours before the Elf stirred once more, his mind struggling to comprehend all that had happened in the past day. His eyes flickered open and the movement caught the watchful glance of Aragorn. The human moved quickly to Legolas' side, holding him down as the Elf struggled to rise. 

" Be still Legolas, we have escaped the village for now" he whispered soothingly, releasing his hold as the Elf relaxed against the grass. The heightened senses of the Elf took in the new surrounding, his eyes asking the question the Ranger knew was coming.

" The village is many hours behind us, I used one of your better breaking horses to overpower the guards. As soon as you are able we should move on, lest they are fortunate and have another Ranger hidden within their cells."

Legolas seemed to accept the explanation for now, it fitted with the fragmented view of events his memory left him with, and he assumed all was well. Glancing down at his horridly skeletal body he noticed to him the first time the bloody mark upon his chest. 

" Did I....?" he asked bewildered. It didn't feel like he'd been stabbed, he couldn't remember being stabbed, yet his memory of all events after being first awoken in the morning were somewhat unreliable. A smile crept onto the face of Aragorn, twitching the corners of his mouth upwards.

" Alas no Legolas, though you played the dead Elf very well. To fool the guard I used some of the blood from your leg to makeshift a convincing stab wound. I didn't think you would mind too much at the time. " He added, still smirking. 

The rumbling of stomachs and the dimming of the sun brought both to the realisation that they truly were free, spending their first night away from cells, stale bread and weak broth. Leaving Legolas slumbering somewhat peacefully, his eyes now open but glazed with sleep, Aragorn rose and wandered a short distance from their makeshift camp to scout for food. His stomach growled noisily as he found some common edible berries as well as some wild roots he could grind and use as a mild disinfectant for Legolas' wound. Picking as many roots and berries as he could carry he made his way back to his companion, his mind still warning him about the dangers of the guards hunting them, but his heart soaring as they spend their first night of freedom under the stars.

To be continued 

feedback much appreciated to yunadax@bigpond.com

**__**


	5. So Close But Yet So Far

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter Five –So Close But Yet So Far

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13

Disclaimer – Tolkien owns all., The song is from LifeHouse, the album is No Name Face, and the song in Simon. They rock. The lyrics near the end are from R.E.M's song 'Everybody Hurts', they rock too!

Summery – Enslaved within a society where innocent travelers are forced into slavery, Legolas must find a way to endure and survive.

Authors Notes –Many apologies for the delay, muse took another extended vacation without telling...I really gotta do something about my muse. This is part of a series, it would make much more sense if you read the first four chapters before trying to read this one. This fic is also based on slavery, lots of gore, depression, brutality etc etc.. If this isn't your cup of tea, go for coffee someplace else...

Dedication – The Ratpak Gals, Camster and Katiemunchkin. Special ta to Sonbon, you rock girl... so long as I can pick your brains for inspo :) 

****

**__**

___

Don't believe the lies that they have told to you

Not one word was true

Moonlight streamed from above, stars twinkled and a few stray clouds send their silver wisps across the night sky. The stillness of night allowed the Ranger to be fairly sure they hadn't been followed, no sounds of hoofbeats, hound barks or booted footfalls greeted his ears and he breathed a partial sigh of relief. His concern was still for his comrade, he had not awoken from the slumber than claimed him soon after they arrived at the stream. It was now Aragorn could have a closer look at his companion. He picked up the roots and berries he had gathered and moved to his friends' side. He took in the skeletal look of the Elf's body, the sunken eyes, the dull matted hair, pale clammy skin and lack of muscle-tone. Just how long the Elf had been in the village cells Aragorn did not know, but he knew that if they had remained there Legolas would not have lasted much longer, the shear effort of his daily physical tasks too much for his already weakened body to take. He knew he didn't look much better himself with his clothing torn and body painfully thin. His rumbling stomach brought his attention back to the berries he held in his hands and he gently shook the Elf's shoulder to wake him. 

Legolas awoke to a hand shaking his shoulder. He groaned in pain as the shoulder he had hit the ground with the day before moved against his will, his efforts to stop the hand shaking it making it ache all the more. The hand retracted instantly with the groan and Legolas forced his eyes open, wondering why he had been pulled from his slumber. Berries red and juicy appeared before his eyes, and hands moved to the back of his shoulderblades, aiding him in rising into a sitting position. The dark form of Aragorn shifted into Legolas' somewhat still blurry vision, again offering the berries that almost glittered in the moonlight. Aragorn said something regarding grinding a root for his leg wound and he vacantly nodded, his mind still not alert. Aragorn quickly ground the root between his dagger and a smooth stone, lifting the bandage he had applied earlier and packing the wound with the creamy substance of the root. Legolas scrunched his face with pain, his muscles tensing as fresh agony coursed through his system. When Aragorn was done he replaced the bandage and once again offered the berries to his companion. Legolas willed his arm to move towards the ripe fruit, begged his aching muscles to respond to his wishes yet was only granted by a small shudder, the arm stubbornly refusing its owners' request. A sigh of frustration escaped Legolas' pale lips, he hated being helpless, made that way by the failings of his own body. He was an Elf, he was not supposed to ail, weary or die. Yet here he was, weak to the point of not being able to raise his own arm to take the food offered to him. He cursed the villagers in his mind, allowing only a few choice Elven expletives to pass through his lips. Aragorn looked at his companion, his eyesbrows arched at the muttered words of frustration.

" You're body is weak Legolas, you will heal rapidly, but until then, I will aid you. There is no shame in accepting the aid of a friend."

Legolas nodded at the words and allowed himself to be fed, accepting the humiliation and instantly grateful Gimli was not here to witness such an event. Soon the berries were finished and Aragorn aided his friend in moving to the stream. The task was an arduous one, Legolas still weak from the infected wound in his leg and his body aching with fever and pain. Slowly they moved together, the Elf leaning on the human, who was actually using the Elf for support himself. Reaching the stream's edge they both collapsed in an ungraceful heap, sweat beading on both brows from the short excursion. Cupping his hands Legolas dipped them into the cool clear water of the stream, savouring the feeling of clean water over his skin. He drank his fill and rolled once more onto his back, letting his muscles relax and content to just listen to the sound of the rushing water.

The moon was now high in the sky, gracefully making its arc across the starstudded backdrop of black. Its rays shone down on the two companions and providing them with light for their tasks. Legolas fell into slumber, dreams of his burnt home filling his unconscious thoughts until dawn came. Aragorn steadfastly took guard, keeping alert to the sounds of the forest around them, straining his senses for any hint that they may still have been followed, even though he knew the chances were very slim. 

Hours later a moan shattered the silence of the incoming dawn. Aragorn's head whipped around to the sound, his hand instantly on the small hilt of the guards' dagger. Legolas moaned and stirred within his sleep, his brow once again slick with sweat even though his body was racked with the shivers of fever. The ranger silently berated himself for not monitoring his friends' condition more acutely as he moved to the ailing Elf's side, his fingers feeling the rapid and shallow beating of Legolas' heartbeat as he felt for a pulse. He tore another strip of his already shredded garments and soaked it in the stream, running the cool water across his friends sweat covered brow. Legolas hissed in his sleep at the contact as though he could feel the cool relief from his feverish nightmares. Aragorn tried to wake the Elf, calling his name and shaking his shoulder again while he replaced the cloth on his brow. No response came forth save for a few incoherent Elvish mutterings.

Concern mounted again within Aragorn for his friends' health, he would not have his most trusted companion die from an infection after surviving and escaping the hell they had both endured. He was torn as to what course of action he should take. He lifted the bandage on the Elf's leg, gasping as he saw the root he had applied early turning a distinct shade of greenish-black meaning only one thing, infection had well and truly set in. He knew time was short, Elves were strong, but an Elf that had been through as much as Legolas had was seriously weakened and may not be able to handle an infection as aggressive as the one that now plauged his friend. He had to get him to a healer. 

**__**

When your day is long  
And the night  
The night is yours alone  
When you're sure  
You've had  
Enough of this life

Legolas' eyes had slipped closed as Aragorn hastily resaddled their horse, half-dragging the stubborn animal to wear his friend lay still shivering. Slipping an arm through the reins the ranger lifted his companion as gently as he could into the saddle, holding him there with one arm as he swung into the saddle behind him. Aragorn shook with exhaustion as he gave their mount a good nudge to get them moving. He still rode in the direction away from the evil village, though he did not care which other village they landed in, only that Legolas had to see a healer soon. For nearly three hours they galloped solidly, the horse starting to gasp for breath as a mountain village came into sight. The horse doggedly continued its frantic pace seeming to sense its rider's urgency and they were soon within the village walls. Aragorn pulled the animal to a halt at the gatekeepers cottage, leaning the unconscious form of the Elf forward along the horses' neck so he wouldn't fall. The ranger pounded on the door, ignoring the rather distasteful look the gatekeeper gave him as he opened the door. As soon as the fallen Elf came into view the gatekeeper silently pointed to a cottage at the far end of the village, muttering something about a healer who lived there before once again shutting the door on the stranger. Aragorn mounted the still heaving horse and rode it at a slightly more sedate pace to the healer's cottage. Once again he pounded upon the wooden door, he voice faltering him as an elderly woman greeted him with a glare. 

" I was told you were the healer, my friend may be dying" he finally got out, gesturing to Legolas still unconscious on the horse. The woman nodded and disappeared deep within the cottage, indicated Aragorn to follow with the Elf. Hurridly the human removed his companion from their horse and followed the elderly lady into the cottage, careful to mind his head on the low ceilings and beams. The woman indicated a cot with clean sheets to one side of a room at the rear of the cottage and Aragorn placed Legolas there, quickly filling the healer in on the events of the past few days. She seemed quick shocked that they had survived the prison, and even more shocked when she heard of their escape. He had not the time to question her before she started pealing the bandage from around Legolas' wound. A foul stench filled the room as the wound was exposed to the air, the smell of decaying flesh assulting the nostrils of those present. 

" We must work quickly, little time is left for him" she told Aragorn as she reached for several jars on the shelves that lined the walls. Pulling the tops of 4 of the jars she combined the ingredients together in a small bowl, grinding them together with a small amount of boiling water before packing it the festering wound. Legolas twisted and moaned in his feverish semi-conscious state, his fists balling and teeth clenching as the poultice was applied. Again the woman returned to the jars on the walls and created another poultice, this time wrapping it in cool wet linen before applying it to the Elf's still sweating forehead.

" This should help bring his fever down, it is all I can do until the poultice on his leg kills the infection. We must now wait for the herbs to do their work" she said as she seated herself next to the head of the bed after fetching a small pail of cool water and another cloth. She striped the Elf of most of his clothing and draped cool cloths on his body, trying desperately to rid him of the fever that consumed him. 

To Be Continued!

All feedback much appreciated to yunadax@bigpond.com 

**__**


	6. Dreams Are What We Make Of Them

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter Five –Dreams Are What We Make Of Them

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13

Disclaimer – Tolkien owns all., The song is Everybody Hurts from R.E.M.

Summery – Enslaved within a society where innocent travelers are forced into slavery, Legolas must find a way to endure and survive.

Authors Notes –Muse is back again, albeit briefly. This chapter is rather short, but I feel the length suits the content. This is part of a series, it would make much more sense if you read the first five chapters before trying to read this one. This fic is also based on slavery, lots of gore, depression, brutality etc etc.. If this isn't your cup of tea, go for coffee someplace else...

Dedication – The Ratpak Gals, Camster and Katiemunchkin. Special ta to Sonbon, you rock girl... so long as I can pick your brains for inspo :) 

****

**__**

Well hang on  
Don't let yourself go  
'Cause everybody cries  
And everybody hurts  
Sometimes

His brother beckoned to him, egging him on as they climbed far into the treetops of the Mirkwood kingdom. Higher and higher they climbed, far higher than was safe for young Elves without knowing the feelings of the trees. An older more learned Elf would have read the language of the tree and known that it was not comfortable with the children so high within its branches. It could only solidify its limbs so much before the weight, however slight caused them to yield and snap, sending its young charged plummeting to the ground. The younger Elf felt a slight sense of apprehension and fear as they neared the highest branches, he almost called out to his brother, but did not want to look the fool. Surely the limbs of such an old and tested tree would support their minimal weight. He paused in his ascent, looking down towards the thicker more sturdy branches and his brother once again egged him on, saying that if he was a true Elf he would know a tree would never let him fall. The smaller Elf again hesitated as the groan of the timbers made itself known, fear curdling his eagerness to beat his brother. Before he could raise his voice to warn his older sibling, a great crack followed by two startled yelps echoed through the caverns of Mirkwood. 

He must have closed his eyes when the branch gave way beneath him, for he could see nothing but black, yet he heard the whistling of the wind in his delicate airs. His body felt weightless, cushioned by the air that flew swiftly passed him. He didn't feel overly frightened, yet he knew sooner or later his body would hit the ground, breaking bones and crushing organs, but strangely this didn't seem to bother him. He was content just to float, savouring the feeling of nothingness, enjoying the feeling of absolute peace that enveloped his mind. The constant rushing of wind was slowly transformed into the distinct two tone of breathing. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Was it his own breath that echoed through his ears, or that of another? He dragged his mind away from the blissful black and forced his ears to focus on the sound. Isolating the rhythm of his own breathing and moving past it, he found he could hear two more sets. One very close to his head, and the other more distant, as though someone were standing back from wherever he was. But he was floating in space, how could anyone be with him? His groggy mind churned within his skull, piecing together the few facts he knew and discounting what his subconscious told him.

His body hurt, he knew that much, yet he could not remember ever hitting the ground after falling from the tree. Did he even fall from the tree or was he just dreaming? He isolated the pain to a few areas of his body. His left thigh seemed to be the main source of pain, something was pushing rather painfully against what must be a raw wound. His back ached is various places, though these were only a dull ache. Numerous bumps and bruises made their presence known as he took an inventory of his body. He stomach rallied against him as his thoughts became more lucid, nausea pushing its way through his system and making him feel greener than the leaves of his once beloved home. He barely had time to roll over before his stomach emptied its pitiful contents on the floor. He groaned as he sank back against what felt like sheets. He had yet to open his eyes and steadfastly refused to do so. If he didn't open his eyes, the blackness may return taking the pain and nausea away. He felt weak and helpless, frail and dependant and it was not something he wished upon any elf let alone himself. He relaxed his mind and wished for the black to come, instead soothing voices crept into his mind. The voices were at first a jumble of words, meaningless and tangled, but soon his mind sorted out the syllables and phrases into coherent thoughts. Someone was concerned for him, telling him to fight and not give in. He headed the words and sank once into the welcome black, allowing his body time to heal without his mind forever churning. 

**__**

Sometimes everything is wrong  
Now it's time to sing along  
(When your day  
Is night alone)  
Hold on, hold on

To Be Continued

Feedback appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com

**__**


	7. Not So Safe Haven

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter Seven – Not So Safe Haven

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13

Disclaimer – Tolkien owns all., The song is Everybody Hurts from R.E.M. The idea for this chapter came from my good buddy Sonbon, special TA for that!

Summery – Enslaved within a society where innocent travelers are forced into slavery, Legolas must find a way to endure and survive.

Authors Notes –Muse is back again, someone's gotta give my muse a pager, this is getting ridiculous! This chapter is rather short, but I feel the length suits the content. This is part of a series, it would make much more sense if you read the first six chapters before trying to read this one. This fic is also based on slavery, lots of gore, depression, brutality etc etc.. If this isn't your cup of tea, go for coffee someplace else...

Dedication – The Ratpak Gals, Camster and Katiemunchkin. Special ta to Sonbon, you rock girl!

****

**__**

If you feel like letting go  
Hold on  
If you think you've had  
Too much of this life  
Well hang on  


The ranger watched silently as his friend suddenly became animated, only to empty his stomach on the floor and once again succumb to the darkness. Sweat still sheeted off the Elf's pale skin, soaking the sheets beneath him and sending constant beads running off his brow. The elderly woman rose to refill the pails of water allowing Aragorn a small amount of time and privacy with his companion. The human spoke words of encouragement to the feverish Elf, insisting that he fight the infection eating him from the inside, and that he not give in to the welcoming light of death and rebirth. He was unsure if Legolas could hear him or not, but he felt compelling to speak nonetheless, willing the Elf to live by his thoughts alone. Yet the Elf lay and still and pale as before on the small cot before him. 

Hearing footsteps closing behind him he yielded the small stool to the healer and aided in placing fresh herbal cooling clothes on the heated flesh. Somewhere in his semi-conscious state the Elf felt something chilled and cold come in contact with his skin and flinched, sucking in his breath and he tried in vain to move his unresponsive body away from the contact. The healer took this as a good sign and repeated changing the clothes as they heated, alternating between herbal and plain cold water. They knew if they used too many herbal clothes the herb would turn toxic within Legolas' already heavily infected blood and do more harm than good. The Elf ceased his meager protests and once again became still and silent, as if he lacked the sheer energy to make his displeasure known. 

For hours the two carers' silently changed clothes, replacing slightly warm ones with ice-cold fresh clothes. Time ceased to have meaning as they toiled, combining their expertise and willpower to help the valiant Elf in his struggle. Hours and days passed with only few glimpses of movement within the limp Elf. Every once in a while he repeated he earlier protests and tried to move away from the contact of the cold clothes but little more progress was made. Exhausted the healer bade to get some much-needed rest while Aragorn still sat vigil over his friend. He cut extra clothes from some rags the healer had left, leaving the long knife by the head of the bed in case he needed to cut more rags. He soaked those he had in the herbal water and applied him to the few exposed areas of flesh they were still racked with sweat. The fever had still to break and Aragorn was more concerned than ever that his friend may not pull through this. He felt humiliated that the Prince of Mirkwood could live through tremendous battles, slay dozens of orcs with naught but his bow and arrows, and to possibly die from an infected horse kick. As he replaced the cloth on his friends' brow he heard a curious sound from outside the cottage. Far away sounds of screams and cries, coupled with the sound of galloping hooves made Aragorn once again on his highest guard. Had the evil villagers from their slavery finally tracked them down? He placed the long handled knife in Legolas' still hand, closing the unresponsive fingers under the elf held the weapon loosely. He rose and took a cautious look out the tiny window only to see the blur of a galloping horse. Then the gallop stopped, the clatter of a highly-strung, badly educated horse being roughly pulled to a stop reached Aragorn's ears. They'd seen the horse he and Legolas had used to escape on. He should have known the animal was distinctive with its large obvious branding, yet his concern for Legolas had allowed him to forget such a small, yet such an important thing.

A close loud voice rang over the din of screams and hooves, the language though familiar to Aragorn during his slavery, was filled with excitement and violence. A cold sweat broke on Aragorn's brow. No doubt they knew where he was, and they would come for their slaves once more. He gripped the small dagger within his hand and wished fervently for his sword and his bow. The healer was making her way towards the only entrance to the cottage to see what the din was when Aragorn cursed and called after her. As she reached the door and turned towards the sound of his voice the heavy wooden door sprung forward, closely followed by a villager the size Aragorn had never seen before. The burly creature took one look at the elderly woman before him before slitting her throat and pushing the limp body out of his path. Aragorn shrank back into the shadows as his only escape was cut off, instantly glad Legolas was not easily recognisable under all the clothes that covered his pale skin. The creature advanced and was soon joined by his companions, four in total. Fortunately their horses broke loose from where they hastily tethered them; forcing two to chase after the flighty animals if they wanted any hope of not walking back to their hideous homes. The remaining two still advanced, quickly checking all rooms they passed before arriving in the back room where the human and Elf where. 

Almost completely concealed in deep shadow of a corner Aragorn let the enemy come within range. He only had one dagger and two opponents and to his horror they headed straight for the small cot that housed his companion. Not willing to let Legolas be discovered he let fly with his dagger, striking the closest one to the Elf in the neck, neatly severing the artery on the left side. The human was no totally defenseless as the hulking monster turned away from the cot and directly towards him. He came forward to the challenge, knowing he stood a better unarmed in the open rather than blocked in a corner. He ducked the incoming dagger's arc and picked up a small pot from the bench, emptying its contents as he blocked another incoming blow. His opponent was swift and accurate, quickly ridding Aragorn of his newly acquired shield. 

He searched frantically around for something he could use, receiving a more than glancing blow to his temple when he wasn't quick enough dodging another strike. Disorientated and more than woozy he staggered towards the table, his legs desperate for reprieve while his hands still looked for a weapon. The ranger grew desperate as the creature towered over him, its leer at his weakened state obvious. Its arm raised high above its head, eager for the death strike, but never completed its arc. A knife imbedded itself within the monsters back, piecing the ribcage and rupturing its large heart. Grasping at its back the monster faltered and fell, causing a great crashing sound as it connected with the wooden floorboards. In his final moments before blackness claimed him Aragorn saw Legolas' arm fall weakly back to the bed, the hand devoid of the knife that saved his life. 

**__**

'Cause everybody hurts  
Take comfort  
In your friends  
Everybody hurts

To be continued :)

All feedback appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com  


**__**


	8. Freedom At Last

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter Eight - Freedom At Last

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13

Disclaimer – Tolkien owns all. The song is Everybody Hurts from R.E.M. 

Summery – Enslaved within a society where innocent travelers are forced into slavery, Legolas must find a way to endure and survive.

Authors Notes –. This is part of a series; it would make much more sense if you read the first seven chapters before trying to read this one. This fic also follows on from my other LOTR fic Faded Ashes. It can stand on its own but the angst would make more sense if you read the other story as well. This fic is also based on slavery, lots of gore, depression, brutality etc etc... If this isn't your cup of tea, go for coffee someplace else...

Dedication – The Ratpak Gals, Camster and Katiemunchkin. Special ta to Sonbon, you rock girl!

Freedom At Last

****

**__**

If you're on your own  
In this life  
The days and  
Nights are long  
When you think  
You've had too much  
Of this life  
To hang on

From his somewhat limited viewpoint Legolas witnessed Aragorn's ungraceful slump to the floor beside the ogre that had tried to claim his life. Concern erupted in the Elf's heart as his friend lay unmoving on the floor, accompanied by severe irritation that his body wouldn't co-operate. His senses were unhindered even as his body was weak, and he knew that the other two guards would be returning any minute for their comrades. Adrenaline surged though the Elf as he heard footsteps in the far distance and he forced his body to role away from the comforts of the cot to tend to his fallen companion.

He landed on all fours on the hard wooden floor, ignoring the sharp impact on his knees and palms and making his way towards Aragorn. The Ranger had yet to move and did not stir as Legolas neared the still form. Sweat sheeted from the Elf in his exhaustion for his fever had broken, but the infection had dramatically weakened his body. Gritting his teeth again Legolas crawled the last few meters to the humans' side to better see his friend's injuries. A sizable gash ran the length of the human's right temple, still bleeding slightly and obviously the reason for his unconsciousness. As gently as he could the archer probed the injury, his skilled fingers searching for a fracture or break in the bone. Aragorn seemed to stir slightly at the pressure, his face contorting slightly in pain as the elf's fingers worked over the wound. Brown eyes flickered open to meet concerned blue as the footsteps neared the cottage again. Voices came with the footsteps, but they echoed not of anger and violence, but instead of heartache and thinly concealed grief.

"Is anyone alive in there?" a voice called in westron, sounding nothing like the glutteral language of the guards.

" Aye, but we are wounded and I fear the enemy will return shortly" Legolas returned with as much strength in his voice as he could. He aided Aragorn into a sitting position as the footsteps came towards them. There were gasps and cries as they found the body of the healer still within the corridor. A single person entered the back room where the two were trying to rise. 

" You must help us, we must leave this place before the guards return" Legolas pleaded, still struggling to support the woozy Ranger as he tried to rise. They made a sorry sight, the human clad in torn rags sporting an ugly head injury, while the elf was clad only in his undergarments with a bloody bandage covering the better part of his thigh. The intruder took pity on them, helping them towards the cot before departing and bringing new clothes, another dagger for each of them, food and an old workhorse.

" I know these aren't much" The kind villager spoke quietly as he returned " But the clothes are clean, the daggers sturdy and the horse is strong" He handed over the supplies, adding some healing herbs into the bundle while the two somewhat painfully dressed. 

" We thank you kind sir, we would repay your kindness but we have naught to offer" Aragorn said as he shakily stood and grasped the villagers' hand in thanks.

" The animal you rode is still in the yard, if I return it to the guards they'll pay a reward. Consider your debt abolished" The men shook hands once more before aiding Legolas in standing and helping him out to the waiting horse. The horse was indeed strong being a Clydesdale and easily supported the weight of its two riders. Legolas sat in front, gently taking up the reins and speaking quietly to the animal. Its ears twitched back and forth as it listened to this strange creature who could communicate with it. It understood its message and started a gentle loping canter back towards the village gates. 

For hours they loped away from the kind people with whom they took refuge, stopping only when darkness fell and both were too weary to continue. Aragorn dismounted first, leaning against the animal till the world stopped spinning at crazy angles. The elf soon followed, grimacing as weight was put on his injured leg. Although his healing abilities had started to kick in his body was terribly weak from his fight with infection. The elf spoke quietly to the horse before relieving it of its bridle and letting it wander to graze. He hobbled back to where Aragorn sat going through the bag given to them by the townsfolk. Both parties eagerly received the small amount of food, Legolas not having eaten for many days and Aragorn being too concerned with other matters to eat. They broke the bread between them, grateful for the meager meal it offered. When they had finished Aragorn took a closer look at the herbs that was wrapped within, they were nothing compared to the vast diversity of the healers' but they would have to do for now. Legolas limped over to a nearby stream and filled the empty water skins with the clear cool liquid before returning to where Aragorn sat hunched over sorting leaves of different herbs. Legolas tossed a skin to the Ranger who drank heartily. Wiping his mouth Aragorn motioned the Elf to sit next to him, wincing to himself as the Elf painfully lowered his body to the ground. As gently as he could the Ranger removed the bloody bandage and poultice, silently berating himself as the Elf cried out in pain. He wished desperately for some painkilling herbs but knew only antiseptics and disinfecting medicines were given to them. He bathed the wound in clean water and packed more herbs within it before wrapping a clean bandage around his friend's thigh. Legolas was lying back against the grass by this stage, sweat dripping off his brow as he fought the urge to once again cry out. His dignity shattered as racks of pain surged through his battered body.

" Relax Legolas, I have finished" Aragorn said as he offered the Elf a hand in rising. Once Legolas was comfortable Aragorn tended to his own injury, cleaning the site with water before applying some herbs to prevent infection setting in. He knew the nausea and disorientation would dissipate of their own accord as his own body healed. 

The moon rose high in the sky as the Ranger took the first watch, allowing his weakened companion the luxury of rest while he kept alert for any sign of orcs or guards. The hours past swiftly for the Ranger, who spent most of his guard in deep contemplation. He replayed the events of the past few days in his mind, from being captured himself and taken to the prison, to finding his long missing friend in a worse condition that he thought possible. The escape and the flight through the woods, his concern for Legolas as the infection took hold in his body, the healer, the battle to save each other and finally freedom once again. Weariness began to take hold of his mind in the early hours of the morning and he woke the Elf to take over from him. Vacant eyes cleared and focused as the hand of the Ranger gently shook his shoulder, summoning the Elf from whatever dreams were playing through his mind.

Yawning Legolas sat and positioned himself where he could easily see the surrounding countryside and watched the Ranger fall into an exhausted slumber. He felt good being out in the open, away from cells and cottages and dusty roundyards. He'd not looked upon the stars in many nights and tonight he gave them his full attention, singing softly to himself as he named the constellations and remembered the stories behind them. The Elf continued his watch till the first rays of light shone down through the early morning mist. Another day had begun, but this day was a day of freedom.

To Be Continued...

when my muse decides to return again :)

Feedback greatly appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com


	9. Frost Bites

Title – Cling and Clatter – Chapter 9

Author – Jules

Rating – MA 15+ mature themes.

Disclaimer – All things Ringish aren't mine.. the song is Its a Beautiful Day by Queen.

Summery – Free from slavery and guards, Legolas and Aragorn brave the cold mountains to return to Mirkwood

Dedication – Sonbon, the RatPak Girls, and Minka – Ta for making my muse return!!

Authors Notes – This is part of a series, if you want it to make sense, please read the previous 8 chapters as well as my other LOTR fic Faded Ashes. Enjoy!

__

its a beautiful day

the sun is shining

I feel good

And no-ones gonna stop me now

The following morning both the Elf and the Ranger awoke with the sun, savouring once again the feeling that they were no-longer either prisoners of their own physical weaknesses or other evil beings. For a while they simply lay in the pink/golden dawn, listening to the trees and animals around them. The horse snuffled quietly nearby, content to be grazing on the lush green grass that surrounded the clear stream, and birds arose to twitter in the treetops, their song filling the morning with the sound of merry beings. Unfortunately the sound of rumbling stomachs shattered the idealic scene and Aragorn was the first to rise somewhat wobbly to his feet. The world once again span lazily around his sore head, making his steady himself on a nearby tree before moving too far. Pausing a moment while the world righted he contemplated the events the past few months had dealt him. From being captured and taken to the prison, to finding Legolas, and escaping, the village and the healer, and finally the beautiful morning that the gods had blessed him with.

His stomach rumbled again, cutting short his musings and reminding him of the reason he was standing. Turning his gaze away from the dawning sun Aragorn took in the trees and bushes around them, looking for any kinds of fruits or berry's that might be present. He searched for several minutes before walking over to the only bush the provided any colour other than green. A bush laden with red berries filled his sight, yet something about it seemed wrong. Coming closer he was horrified to find that the only source of food they had in their immediate vacinity was a bush full of highly poisenous berries. He was somewhat startled when Legolas appeared beside him, leaning heavily on a branch to allow his leg to heal quicker.

" I take it this means breakfast is once again missed" Legolas said in good humour as they glared at the inedible berries. Aragorn was not amused though, he knew that if Legolas was to heal fully and quickly, they would both need to keep up the nutrients, as his head wound would also not heal if they were malnourished. Turning away from the offending foodstuff he headed back to where they had laid, carefully collecting the few meager belongings they had while Legolas called the horse over to them, slipping its bridle over its gentle head before awkwardly scrambling onto its broad back. Once mounted he offered his hand to his companion, bracing himself as the Ranger took the offered hand and settled himself behind the Elf. 

" Where are we to go?" Legolas said as his keen eyes serveyed the area around them. Aragorn too set his eyes upon the rolling hills in which they had camped. Green vegetation greeted them in every direction, no colour other than the variations of green that were between the trees and the grass. Forlornly Aragorn looked back the way they had come, seeing the orchards, flowers and vegetables, but knew that they could not even ponder returning the way they had come. To return would mean they would most certainly be captured again. Making up his mind he spoke his thoughts to his companion and await his decision.

" I agree that returning to the village would be unwise, but to venture too far into these hills without food also could be unwise. My bearings have faltered and I do not know where exactly we are, otherwise I would advice is to hasten to the nearest Elven city." Legolas reluctantly admitted. An Elf, lost in the wilderness. Such a thought would be scorned at had he not been with such familiar company.

" You were heading for Greenwood were you not, to celebrate the lives of your people who perished? Is that not in a northerly direction from LothLorien?" Aragorn thought aloud, recounting the fact that it was Galadriel who had raised the alarm when Legolas had gone missing. She had sent a messenger to the Ranger several days after Legolas did not return from his memorial, and pleaded him to aid her in finding the lost Elf. For days they searched before finding Legolas' bootprints leading into a dimly lit village. Aragorn had assumed Legolas had spent the night there, sheltered from the pounding rain that had been falling at the time, but alas the Ranger fell into the same trap as his companion.

" I think we should head once again to the North. If my instinct is right we should arrive at the broad lands that were once your fathers in near a few weeks." Aragorn made up his mind and hoped madly that his theory proved true. Mirkwood, formerly Greenwood the Great had been an impressive expanse of land of which Legolas would know most, if not all of. If they continued to head north, they would no doubt arrive at the forest where the Elf was born.

Legolas leant forward and spoke quietly into the horses' ear, instructing it to keep the sun on the left until noon and on the right after it had reached its peak., thus he was sure they would be heading due north at all times. The gentle animal gathered itself into a gentle canter, its stride easily passing the ground as they headed up into the mountains. Aragorn called for a halt as midday neared them, taking a moment to survey the mountainside. Still only green greeted his eyes, even then considerably sparser that before. He kept his thoughts to himself this time, not wanted to bother his no-doubt hungry companion that there were still no edible plants in the area. He was worried though, the Elf was still weak from his fight with infection, and the Ranger himself still sported a nasty concussion, he prayed the gods would look after them as they made the perilous journey to familiar territory.

Onward the weary companions plodded, the horse now climbing steep inclines, digging its hooves into the stony, crumbling earth beneath them as they rose higher into the mountaintop. The tempreture plummeted as they rose higher, the air becoming thin as dusk started to descend around them. The sun created a dazzling display as it retired to the other side of the earth, leaving the two companions and their beast in growing darkness; cold, hungry and very much alone.

Before the inky blackness of night fully engulfed them Legolas spied a rocky outcrop that would serve as a rudimentry shelter. He guided the horse towards the overhang with kind words and the promise of mountaingrass grazing, grabbing a handfull of mane to slow his decent as he slipped from its back. Aragorn thudded to the earth beside him, this time wobbling only slightly as his feet touched the solid ground.

Legolas relieved the horse of its bridle and set it loose to graze on the sparse but lush mountain grass. Pity for the Elf and Ranger they could not eat the grass as well, for that was looking quite tempting to the hungry two. Taking his mind of his rumbling stomach Aragorn opened his waterskin and took several sips of the cool liquid within. Wiping his mouth he offered the skin to Legolas who also drank sparingly before recorking it and placing next to the horses' bridle. In all his life as the crown prince of Mirkwood, Legolas Greenleaf has never known hunger. He had feasted on all he could eat during his days in the great forest, and even when he was off guarding the borders, or travelling, he had never known the pains of emptiness that now invaded his body. He had only eaten a small amount last night, splitting the two small rolls between Aragorn and himself and had not eaten anything for many days before hand. Now it was starting to tell on his mind as well as his body. 

Laying back against the frigid rocks the Ranger shivered in the frigid night air. A thick mist was rolling in, covering them all in a wet dew that would not dry until midmorning. Curling up within himself he tried to block the feelings of cold that invaded his body, combining with that of the hunger and nearly driving him mad. His teeth chattered against his will, audibly making his intense cold known to his companion. Strong arms pulled him into an embrace, pulling one cold body against another until they both fell asleep, sharing body-heat to keep from freezing.

The next morning greeted them with the dull light of morning through a sea of thick fog. Legolas groaned as he rose, cursing the Valar as he tried to stretch the cold aching that pervaded his joints and bones. Aragorn awoke shortly after, equally cursing the gods as he shook the numbness from his frozen fingers. He picked up the waterskin while Legolas called the horse, only to find the precious liquid inside frozen solid. He turned and watched the gentle old horse pick its way up the steep slope towards them, trying very hard not to see the icicles hanging from its mane and tail. Without a word he climbed on after the elf, simply showing him the frozen waterskin before tying it under his thigh with his belt to allow his own body-heat to thaw the ice back into water. Sensing its two riders were ready to go the horse slowly picked its way further up through the foggy mist, into the colder, icier mountains of the north.

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sometimes I feel so sad, so bad,

but, no-ones gonna stop me

no-one

is hopeless, so hopeless

to even try...

To Be Continued

feedback much appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com or feralpony@bigpond.com


	10. A Winter's Tale

Title – Cling & Clatter – Chapter 10 – A Winter's Tale

Author – Julesmonster, otherwise known as YunaDax

Rating – PG13

Summery - Free from slavery and guards, Legolas and Aragorn brave the cold mountains to return to Mirkwood

Disclaimer – They do... I don't. Bugger about that isn't it. The song is A Winter's Tale and It's a Beautiful Day by Queen. They are on the Made in Heaven album. The idea for this chapter came from a novel a friend of mine was reading, Jo's Boys by Louisa May Alcott.

Authors Notes – This is part 10 of a series, you'd better read the first nine for this to make any sense what so ever :) My other fic that predates this one is also good for understanding the backstory, its called Faded Ashes.

Dedication – Special Ta to Sonbon for lending me the whole survival kit and kaboodle, Katiemunchkin, Minka and the RatPak girls for all your continuing support.

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So quiet and peaceful,

tranquil and blissful,

there's a kind of magic in the air,

what a truly magnificent view,

a breathtaking scene.

For five days the tired and hungry companions climbed higher and higher within the icy bounds of the mountains. Neither had yet to spot anything they could use as a kind of food, the roots of the shrubs were frozen, the berries either non-existent or poisonous, and even the water was frozen solid. They had worked out a system of forcing as much snow and ice into their waterskins in the morning, then tying it under their thighs as they rode, allowing body heat to thaw the frozen liquid into something they could use. Still they rode on, climbing higher during the days, and sleeping curled together for warmth in the nights. Both began to grow painfully thin, their clothes hanging from their bodies as if they were made for men twice their size. The scenery was breathtaking as they rose towards the clouds, finally reaching the summit at noon of the fifth day. Lands dropped for as far as the eye could see in every direction, greens and blues blending together in a view of the world rarely seen. Legolas' keen eyes picked up a different hue in the lands beneath them, a darker more sinister colour that could only be caused by evil. He pointed towards the area of black and spoke his thoughts to his companion.

"That is Mirkwood to the north, for the trees have yet to regrow after being touched by the evil of Saruman."

Aragorn nodded and turned his eyes to a closer area of interest, a rudimentary bark hut stood alone on the downward slope of the mountain, dim and dark in the distance yet to Aragorn a shining beacon indicating that someone crossed these mountains enough to provide shelter, and the other item that commonly accompanies shelter. Food.

Without question they headed towards the dark shape, reaching it within that afternoon and setting an early camp. With renewed vigour the two dismounted, turning the horse loose again to forage in the snow for grass before entering the dilapidated hut in search for the foodstuffs that could save their lives. Together the searched the small shelter, turning aside all its meager contents in search of some dried meat, stale bread, or frozen fruit. Alas their search revealed nought but a cut on the hand that Legolas received when shoving aside the bed in his search. Before binding the gash with a strip of material torn off his tattered shirt, Aragorn inspected the cut, noticing the way the Elf's blood still flowed freely despite the cold weather. An idea formed in the Ranger's mind, something that could keep them alive until they were out of the mountains and into more arable land. Blood contains all the nutrients the body needs to survive, and the only member of the party without a lack of food was their horse. So what if they could bleed enough from their gentle beast, mix it with some water, grass and herbs, and live off that? He knew his theory could keep them alive, yet after living for many years in Rivendell he also knew how Legolas would react to bleeding the animal.

Angrily Legolas shook his head as Aragorn explained his plan. Desecrating the body of a sacred animal was against everything he has been taught as a child. Even when things were dire taking the lifeblood of another to keep yourself alive was wrong to the Elf and he grew quite agitated as he explained to the Ranger why. Fortunately for the Ranger he was not bound by such sacred rites and went to the small fireplace to start a fire. Carefully he stacked the small amount of wood in the stone oven, using his blade and a piece of flint he had found to send sparks into the cold but dry wood. Within minutes a small fire cast its glow around the tiny cabin, slowly defrosting its occupants and reminding them just how hungry they were. Legolas clutched his aching stomach as it churned and grumbled painfully with its lack of filling. When the spasm had passed he looked at the ranger, still fighting with his moral centre. They were starving, and would not last more than another day or so. The horse was still solid, spending all the nights grazing beneath the snow on mountain grass. Would it be so wrong to take just a little? Just enough to keep them alive? Emotions played across his features, belying his internal struggle to his companion. Aragorn nodded sympathetically and reached for the tin cup lying discarded on the floor. 

" We only need a little, and if we only take a little it will be several days before the animal even feels it" the Ranger said soothingly. He understood that Legolas was the crown prince of his homeland, treated as such by all who knew him. He would never have known the cold stabbing of hunger and how it could make one do terrible things if only to make the gnawing pass for a while. Aragorn placed his dull but strong knife in the flames, waiting until the tip was glowing before removing it, taking the cup and heading out into the freezing inky black of night.

It was quite a while before the rugged human re-entered the cabin, holding a full cup, a handful of what looked like grass, and a bloodstained blade. Casting these objects on the roughhewn table he set to work. Pulling out another cup from its shelf he poured half the blood into it, filling the rest with the water from their waterskins and adding a few leaves that he had collected. Picking up the mixture he set it in the flames until it boiled, before removing it and setting it to cool in front of the still conflicted face of Legolas. 

__

It's all so beautiful,

like a landscape painting in the sky,

mountains are zooming higher,

..., my world is spinnin' and spinnin and spinnin,

its unbelievable.

" Let it cool before sipping it slowly" the Ranger instructed as he headed back to the table to mix his own cup, leaving the Elf to his own deliberations as to whether he would actually drink the blood of another creature. When Aragorn return the Elf's cup still lay untouched, and remained so until the Ranger's cup was also ready and sitting before him. Hesitatingly the Elf picked up the cup and lifted it slowly to his lips, unable to keep the repulsion from his face as his nose picked up the scent. It smelt terrible and would most probably taste even worse, but it would keep them alive until they could find food of their own. Eventually both cups were empty and the companions curled up in front of the fire to sleep, resting somewhat peacefully for the first time since camping by the stream.

Dawn greeted them with a spectacular display of colour, the sky turning many shades of orange and pink before the yellow globe rose to once again dominate the sky. The horse nickered softly as its two masters arose sleepily from their cabin, picking its way through the snow to nuzzle at them, understanding and forgiving them for what they had to do the night before. Legolas scratched the gentle creature behind its ears, whispering an apology in Elvish as the creature's head gently butted against his chest. Aragorn went and retrieved one of the tin cups, as well as his blade and waterskins and rejoined the Elf who was now standing admiring the impressive view. Once more feeling somewhat like his normal self, the Wood Elf took in the view, letting his gaze once again wander over the greens and blues of the lands that surrounded them. The dark patch of death was still evident amoungst the green, and it gave them both determination and direction as they once again mounted their sturdy horse and began to descend the mountain. 

For another two days they descended, stopping only at night when the light failed, and bleeding the horse if they could find dry firewood. On the eve of the third night they dropped into the foothills of the mountains, lush greenery taking the place of icy white snow. At the first sign of greenery, the friends dismounted and started their renewed search for edible food. For an hour they searched under the threat of invading blackness, pulling aside foliage and grass to peer at roots, and pulling down branches to see if their bough bore any fruit. As the blackness finally rolled in Legolas returned to where they had split up with several roots in his arms. His arms and hands were scraped and raw but the smile on his face saw that he felt no pain in his limbs. Aragorn saw Legolas' grin and proudly displayed the few small boughs of fruit he had found. Together they built a small fire with dead wood and made a broth in the tin cup they had kept from the mountain cabin. To the average traveler the meal would have been meager and bland, but to the friends it was a feast fit for a king. They ate heartily and settled down to sleep next to the fire, content to know that they would have no trouble finding food to fill their bellies for at least a little while.

__

Its a beautiful day

I feel good, I feel right,

and no-ones gonna stop me now.

To Be Continued...

All feedback greatly appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com or feralpony@bigpond.com.

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****


	11. Acceptance

Title – Cling And Clatter – Chapter 11 – Acceptance

Author – Julesmonster a.k.a. Yunadax

Rating – PG 13

Summary – Having survived the freezing mountains, Legolas and Aragorn continue on their journey to the dead village of Mirkwood.

Disclaimer – they do, I don't. Bugger bugger bugger. The first song is Creed's My Sacrifice, the second is By My Side from INXS, and the third is One Last Breath, again by Creed.

Authors Notes – This is chapter 11 of a series, please read the other 10 if you want to make any sense of this what so ever. This also heavily ties in with my other fic, Faded Ashes, one would also be advised to read that before proceeding.

Dedication – Sonbon, my trusty beta, and the Ratpak Gals, Katiemunchkin and all my reviewers. Thanks!!

Acceptance

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We've seen our share of ups and downs

Oh how quickly life can turn around in an instant

It feels so good to reunite

Within yourself and within your mind

Let's find peace there.

Several more days passed uneventfully for the travelling trio. By day they rode towards the growing black scar upon the land, and by night they camped and feasted upon the fruits and berries the land offered them. Outwardly, neither showed any signs of conflict, yet inside a storm was brewing within them both. Aragorn warred within himself over whether to offer counsel to his friend, who, although he tried to disguise its effects, was feeling the first pangs of guilt as they neared his fallen homeland.

Legolas tried desperately not to display his warring emotions. Hate, betrayal, anger, fear and guilt all fought for attention within his soul, causing him to fall silent for hours at a time and at night relive the horror of the day of the fire. Concern grew within Aragorn as the days passed and Legolas grew quieter still. His face seemed permanently etched with the tight lines of pain as the blackness of Mirkwood grew in front of them. On the night of the fifth day after descending the mountains, they entered the scarred land. No regrowth sprouted from the charred remains, each blackened gnarled tree standing as silent as when they had left the lands one year ago. 

Legolas paused as his feet touched the black earth for the first time, no grass, no shrubs and no animals would be found until they returned to the unburned area through which they had just passed. His heart warred with his mind, willing him to flee and avoid the angst that would follow in the next few days. Aragorn paused beside his friend, laying a calming hand upon the elf's shoulder. He did not speak, nor did he look towards his friends' face. Isildur's heir just gazed into the darkened landscape before them, silently offering support for the troubled time that lay ahead.

Aragorn released his friend, facing his own demons while he slipped the saddle and bridle off the gentle horse that had carried them this far. There was no food to forage within the lands ahead, nothing to eat and the water assuredly still containing the evil that Saruman had inflicted on the elven village months ago. He whispered quietly to the horse, asking it to remain on the green side of the border until they returned, it responded by nickering softly and bunting its head against the human's chest, saying in it its own way it would comply and wait for its masters. Aragorn watched as the animal picked its way slowly through the green grass, sampling the sweet blades as it moved towards the shelter of some trees, he then turned his attention back to his companion. Legolas hadn't moved in the short time Aragorn had tended to the horse, his eyes still focused on some far object and the emotions he'd tried so hard to keep hidden running as plain as day upon his features. He wanted so much to flee and never return, but his pride willed him to remain and pay his respects to his fallen family and people. He _would_ do this; he had to, if only he could.

Aragorn watched Legolas for a while, taking in the emotions playing across the elf's face, before returning to his side and placing a reassuring hand on the other's shoulder.

"You must go on Legolas, I know that your heart wishes you to flee and never return, but your soul will not let you rest until you do what you have come for"

Legolas turned his head towards the soothing words, the phrase was all he needed to make his resolution complete. Yes he would continue, no matter how hard it would be.

His posture straightened by determination and his step fueled by pride, the elf picked up the small bundle of foodstuffs they had gathered, tied his waterskin to his belt and started to make his way through the land that once was his home. Aragorn followed in his friend's footsteps, trying desperately not to cough as the other's light footsteps stirred up dust that should have settled days after the fire. 

For two days they walked in silence, Legolas' keen eyes searching for anything that was familiar in a landscape that look liked it had been burnt yesterday. On the eve of the third day the two came across a green gully, untouched by the ferocity of the fire and seeming strangely familiar. Legolas stopped as he neared the stream, running clear and cool, not dark and evil like the others they had crossed. He knew he should remember this place, but for some reason his memories of the area seemed fragmented and broken. 

What had happened here? He turned to Aragorn who had stopped behind him and with a questioning look in his eyes asked what had happened there. Aragorn pointed towards some large boulders within the burnt area above them, not wanting to continue but knowing Legolas needed to accept what had happened to him and find within himself some kind of closure. 

" We found you over there, your horse tried to leap the boulders but didn't make it, throwing you and leaving you wedged into a crevice. We found you more than a day after the fire and nursed you back to health by the stream here. You had a nasty head wound and for a time couldn't remember what had happened."

Legolas nodded at the words. The explanation fitting his broken memories of what had happened as within his own mind he relived the events before the fall - galloping blindly, choking on the smoke, eyes searing in the heat, his mount stumbling, faring little better than he. He shook his head and rid himself of the memory; it would do him no good to fall into the pit of grief here, not until he had done what he came to do. 

Pay his respects to his family.

He placed the gully to be near two hours walk from his home and started towards the slope, silently passing the boulders, pretending not to see the few white bones which were all the remained of his faithful elven horse, and continued up the steep slope. He paused to let Aragorn catch up as he neared the crest of the hills, amazed to still see hoofprints from the year before still etched cleanly in the ash. The area would never recover from the evil, permanently standing as a testament to Sarumans' evil power.

Together they walked, adding new footprints to those of the deceased as they moved closer to the heart of the once proud village. Aragorn left quietly, giving the elf privacy as he knelt by the great mounds of earth and whispered prayers to the Valar for the dead, praying they had safely made the journey to the other side and apologizing for having only recently being able to pay his respects. For hours he whispered to the gods, singing little used death chants to the silent mounds before rising and looking for Aragorn.

Dusk was approaching as he found the human back in the green gully, silently preparing a meal of berries and roots. Without a word Legolas sat next to the King, eyes focused on the small fire flickering with hues of orange and yellow. His eyes glazed over as the memories overtook him, flashing the imaging once again before his unwilling eyes. 

The memories became more intense than ever before as his body lost control and slumped sideways, landing in an unceremonial heap on the ground. 

__

In the dark of the night  
Those faces they haunt me  
But I wish you were  
So close to me  
By my side  
By my side  
I wish you were  
I wish you were  


Startled but not altogether alarmed Aragorn gently gathered his friend in his arms and laid him next to the fire, striping out of his tattered shirt and using it to mop his friends brow with the cool water of the stream. Legolas stiffened and shook as the dream drew to a close, finally clearing his eyes and looking into the concerned face of Aragorn.

" Legolas, I know the elves are private people, but you mustn't let your grief destroy you. You must discuss what is troubling you, expose your grief to others apart from yourself. Only then will you begin to heal. Please tell me what you see" 

The ranger was torn apart knowing the pain that Legolas must be going through and was determined to save the elf from his grief.

Legolas lay quietly for a while before sitting up and staring into the flickering light. He looked into the understanding eyes of his companion and began his story.

" It happened so quickly, we were preparing a celebratory dinner in my honour, feasting to the triumphant destruction of the ring of power when it happened. First we noticed the plume of smoke in the near distance, then the heat, then the stench of fear. We fled; running as fast as our feet could carry us. Those who could took horses, galloping through the trees away from the flames. It felt terrible, fleeing, leaving those who could not keep up behind to die, but there was nought we could do. Stopping would have meant a certain death. I could hear the screams, horrible and painful ringing through the village. 

"One by one the great trees fell, crushing people and mortally wounding others. I heard my father calling out for me, thinking I was still within the palace, he was looking for me and he would have died in there, trying to find me. I felt useless, powerless, fleeing like a startled deer, unable to help them, and not even game enough to try. I can still taste the smoke, feel it stinging my eyes and choking the air around me. It hurt to see, it hurt to breathe, and it hurt to live. I don't know how Asfaloth managed to get as far as he did; he would have been able to see even less than myself yet he still kept going. He tried to jump the boulders, but the ground underneath him gave way and we fell. I remember hitting the rocks, but after that, nothing.

"I still feel horrible about leaving my people, leaving them to die while I live, I feel not worthy to be alive." 

He finished and stared at the ground, salty droplets tracing their way down his cheeks, splashing silently to the ground and cleansing the earth. It hurt to relive the events, and hurt even more to share them with another, yet when he has finished it seemed as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Yes he lived, but in him the memories and joys of all his people continued. 

Aragorn regarded his friend solemnly as the elf recalled his experience. He seemed almost apologetic about living as the memories unfolded, then somewhat relieved as he finished. The grief that had accompanied and haunted him was still there, but it was no longer consuming him as it had been for the past few days. Without a word both of them settled down for the night, staring into the flickering flames of the campfire until sleep overtook them.

The next morning a glance was all that was needed for plans to be made. They had accomplished what they had set out six months ago to do, and it was time to head back to the peaceful seclusion of Rivendell. Silently they packed their small pack of belongings and started back toward the greenery of the surrounding lands. Little did they know the eye of Sauron was once again upon them.

__

I'm looking down now that it's over

reflecting on all of my mistakes

I thought I found the road to somewhere

somewhere in His grace

I cried out heaven save me

But I'm down to one last breath

And with it let me say, let me say.

Hold me now

I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinkin'

Maybe six feet, ain't so far down. 

To be continued

All feedback greatly appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com and feralpony@bigpond.com


	12. Moving On

Title – Cling And Clatter – Chapter 12 – Moving On

Author – Julesmonster AKA Yunadax

Rating – PG 13

Summery – Having confronted the demons of his past Legolas and Aragorn begin the journey back to Rivendell

Disclaimer – they do, I don't. Bugger bugger bugger. The first song is Goldie's Theme from the Water Rats Soundtrack, the second is Who's Got My Back? by Creed. The poem in the middle is Invictus by William Ernest Henley.

Authors Notes – This is chapter 12 of a series, please read the other 11 if you want to make any sense of this what so ever. This also heavily ties in with my other fic, Faded Ashes, one would also be advised to read that before proceeding.

Dedication – Sonbon and the Ratpak Gals, Katiemunchkin and all my reviewers. Thanks!!

Moving On

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Tell me when this day is over

Tell me I'm dreaming

Tell me that this pain is over

Just take me away.

Wake me when the game is over

I'm drownin'

With their bags packed with the meager items within their possession, the crown Prince of the ruined city and the King of Gondor started back towards the magnificence of Rivendell. Silently they strode along the black ruins of Mirkwood, pausing here and there where Legolas wished to pay his respects one last time by a particular gravesite. They passed the rough-hewn mound where the oldest of the Princes lay and Legolas paused once more, his eyes downcast on the blackened charm embossed with the crest of a peacock. He whispered a prayer to the Valar, asking for them to care for his brothers' needs until he arrived himself. When his prayer was completed he turned and glanced at the man behind him, his eyes speaking volumes of thanks for the continued support as they once again turned and headed towards the green in the distance.

Once again moving the pair continued walking for the remainder of the day; little conversation passed between then as the distance out of the devastated area grew shorter. Nearing nightfall they camped by the scarred remnants of one of the great trees, only picking at their food before taking turns watching out for predators. Aragorn took the first watch, murmuring songs of old as he gazed into the stars above. They offered cold distant comfort and they shone unendingly from the heavens, oblivious to the emotions roiling beneath them. 

Legolas slept fitfully, tossing and turning, trying vainly to find a position where sleep would be free of unwanted dreams. As he turned he caught the words of a poem Aragorn was singing softly.

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OUT of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be   
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years 

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate

I am the captain of my soul.

Legolas contemplated the words of the poem as he lay in the ash, his mind twisting the words this way and that until full comprehension dawned upon him. He had play the part of the victim for the past year, wallowing in his grief and lacking in self-worth, yet after the events of the past days and hearing the poem from Aragorn, he now felt in somewhat control of his perilous emotions. He was in control, in control of his soul, and in control of his life. Yes terrible things happen to those with whom one cares about, but the most fitting tribute is to continue living a full life. He mulled over this revelation for a while, allowing it to digest within his mind and heart before slowly rising and sitting propped up against a blackened trunk.

" What was that song?" he asked quietly, careful not to startle his companion. Aragorn looked thoughtful for a while, as if contemplating the answer himself. 

" Its something I read in Elrond's library many years ago when I was but a boy. He also spoke it to me while I grieved the loss of my childhood companion during the war at Isengard. I know not its origins, only that it speaks truth within its lines. "

Legolas nodded, his eyes bright with starlight and emotion. He understood the words, their meaning, and the reasoning behind them. They charged his soul with purpose and set his mind at ease. 

Feeling he had no more to offer Aragorn settled into the inky ground to sleep, almost instantly asleep as his body relaxed against the soft surface. Within his own mind he relived the days of the war at Isengard. Deaths were high amongst men and elves, and many whom were dear to him lost their lives in the struggle. Painful memories flashed before his eyes as he slept, oblivious to the blue eyes watching over him.

Legolas gazed at the sleeping King, amazed at how easily the man found rest. He had tried unsuccessfully for several hours to find the rest of sleep, yet none came at his bidding. Resolving that humans could in fact sleep anywhere, anytime if they wanted too the elf turned his attention back to the trees and stars around him. 

Quietly the Prince rose to his feat, careful not to disturb the sleeping form and placed his palm on the blacken trunk of a great oak. His soul felt stretched being around death for so long and he yearned for the simple pulsing of life beneath the bark of a tree. For many long moment he waited, willing the tree to be alive somewhere underneath the evil Saruman had cast upon it. He had almost given up when he felt a weak thready pulse rise to meet his fingertips. It was alive! Joy assulted his heart and his soul leapt up from within the pits of despair. There was life here, tortured and ruined, but still it was life. 

He felt the connection deepen through the contact of his palm, the ancient tree overjoyed with the return of one of its keepers. Slowly but surely, one by one other songs of life began to emanate around him. Subtle vibrations beneath his feet told him the earth was once again beginning to live, now having realised one of its village-people were alive. A smile spread across Legolas' face, his eyes closed and streaming with tears of joy. Given a few years this land would recover from its torment; it would forever bear the scars of its incineration, but life would once again take its course of death and rebirth. 

For hours Legolas stood feeling the connection grew deeper still, unaware of all happenings around him. He started when a hand on his shoulder shook him out of his reverie.

" Did I miss something?" Aragorn whispered huskily, his voice still glutteral with sleep. His confusion was evident as he wandered what on earth Legolas was smiling about. The elf opened his eyes, still sparkling with tears, yet a wide smile traversed his features. 

" The land is alive still my friend. It grieves much like you or I, and the loss of the Wood Elves has pained it greatly, but it has now found a reason to regenerate. A Wood Elf lives, and wishes to once again make his home amongst them." 

Aragorn simply nodded, accepting the reason although not understanding it. 'How could the presence of a single elf turn the tide against an evil inflicted on this land over a year ago?' He mused to himself as Legolas stepped away from the tree, the smile still evident on his face. The first touches of sunlight graced the landscape, and Aragorn swore he no longer heard the deathly silence that had permeated these parts recently. There was a subtle throb beneath the earth, in the trees and within the air itself. It was alive. 

Feeling invigorated the companions once again set out, mindful of the heavy rain clouds building in the east. The rains would come and cleanse the land, ridding it finally of the evil of Saruman and allowing for the restoration to occur. But from within the tower in the south, they were being watched.

__

There's still time

All that has been devastated

Can be recreated

Realise

We pick up the broken pieces

Of our lives

To be continued

All feedback greatly appreciated at yunadax@bigpond.com or feralpony@bigpond.com


	13. Tunnel of Darkness

Title- Cling and Clatter – Chapter 13 – Tunnels of Darkness

Author – Jules

Rating – PG13 for angst and violence

Disclaimer – They do.. I don't. BUGGER! The lyrics contained within are 'Don't Stop Dancing' from Creed's 'Weathered' album.

Summery – Having passed finally through Mirkwood's borders, Legolas and Aragorn begin to make their way back to Rivendell. 

Authors Notes – This is but chapter 13 of a rather longish story, it would make sense to read the other12 before going any further if you wish to make any sense out of this what-so-ever. This fic also has very strong links with my other LOTR story – Faded Ashes, one would also be advised to read that one as well.

Some reviewers have critiqued my use of song lyrics and poetry that are littered throughout my work. Quite simply, if it were not for that music or poetry, this story would not exist. Music is my inspiration and it seems only fitting to include to pieces that inspire me to write within the works themselves. 

Tunnels of Darkness

__

At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light

A silver lining sometimes isn't enough

To make some wrongs seem alright.

Whatever life brings,

I've been through everything

And now I'm on my knees again.

It seemed as though the minute the close friends emerged from the blackened remains that marked the once glorious kingdom of Thranduil and the Mirkwood elves the heavens opened up and released a heavy cleansing rain. The temperature plummeted as Legolas let loose a low whistle, calling to him the faithful workhorse that had bore them over the mountain range. A shrill neigh and the soft vibration of galloping hooves greeted the elf as the animal sped towards them, showing very few of his many years. Stopping within inches of the elf then snuffling gently towards the Prince's face the animal seemed to understand what had transpired, and seemed grateful to be amongst their company again. 

Aragorn smiled at the scene before him, his life with the Rivendell elves showing him that the firstborns had a way with animals, yet it never ceased to amaze the ranger the way all animals seemed to bond with the Legolas. Not wanting to ruin the moment, but unwilling to freeze to death in the sudden downpour, Aragorn reached over and spoke quietly to his companion, indicating that he thought they should south once again and attempt to reach Rivendell before the heavy snows of winter closed the secluded paradise completely off to all outsiders. The cold weather affected them both, making their abused and weary bodies sore with the ache of not properly treated injuries. Both were quickly reminded of how they barely made it over the mountains on their way here, the injuries from the past experiences were still yet to heal fully, having been pushed far beyond their limits just to survive.

Legolas carefully vaulted onto the horses bare back, settling and balancing himself before offering a hand to Aragorn, who pulled himself stiffly behind the elf and indicated he was ready to move off. With a simple Elvish word the horse collected itself into a steady canter, its mane plastered against its neck in the driving rain. Teeth now chattering uncontrollably in the frigid conditions Aragorn slid his arms around the figure in front of him, leaning as close as he could to let the elf provide natural warmth and a barrier against the driving rain.

Several hours later Legolas called for his equine companion to halt near the mouth of a small cave he had found despite the misty and miserable conditions. A heavy snow had begun to fall even at the lower altitudes, making the clouds seem lower and the two companions colder still. Legolas pointed into the near distance, seeking the Rangers' approval before they decided to make camp. Aragorn nodded at the Prince's choice, eager to be out of the driving wind and snow and dismounted first. He grunted softly as his frozen joints bent to accommodate his weight, he noticed that Legolas fared no better when he slipped of with the elf hissing as his still sore leg bent with the landing. Without words the friends leaned on each other for support in the growing snow until they reached the low mouth of the cave.

Aragorn's teeth continued the chatter even after they reached the relative comfort of the cave, having to duck to clear the lower entrance before being able to stand fully upright once inside. The rocks near the entrance of the cave blocked out the wind and snow, just leaving the frigid cold air within its solid walls. Legolas let his friend recuperate for a moment while he stepped back into the near blizzard to check for firewood. He searched beneath all of the surrounding trees, hoping that some kindling would have made it through the rain and snow dry. His hopes were dashed as he found nil but sodden timber. Thinking they may be trapped by the snow for a while he gathered an armful of the soaking wood and made his way back to the cave. 

Aragorn meanwhile had taken the opportunity to somewhat explore what might turn into their new home for the next few days. He picked his way down the dark tunnel, leaning on the wall for support and guidance and the light started to dim with early evening. Something was odd about this cave, he could feel but not name the strange feeling that pervaded his senses. Something about it just didn't seem right. Finding nothing but more dark tunnels branching of the main cave, the ranger made his way back to his Elven companion who was laying wood out to dry. 

To preoccupied with his task the elf didn't notice the eeriness that his companion had, separating the timber and breaking open their pack for their meal. Legolas passed Aragorn a small selection of fruits and berries by way of silent apology for the lack of fire and the two companions shared a cold lonely dinner before bedding down for the night. 

Legolas volunteered for first watch, insisting he needed less sleep than humans. Too cold to argue Aragorn curled up next to the alert Prince, drawing what little comfort he could from the elf's warmth. He hadn't been asleep that long when a hand shook his shoulder, startling him out of his frozen dreams. A finger was pressed to his lips, telling him to be silent as the elf's keen ears picked up sounds he really didn't wish to hear. 

" Orcs... they are coming towards us from further inside the cave" Legolas whispered, motioning Aragorn to quickly and quietly collect their things. They were in no condition to fight, yet the thought of going back into the now raging blizzard outside didn't thrill them overly either. The ranger slid his dagger out of the pack and kept it close at hand while he collected their few things. Legolas also quietly made his way around their small campsite, quickly searching out strategic position if they were forced to fight. It was either face a most probably small group of rouge orcs or face the freezing winter outside, and with snow already deep on the ground, fleeing would be difficult at best with a human by his side. His keen hearing had only heard a small number of orcs within the depths of the caves, and he prayed to the Valar there were no more hiding in the bowels of the cavern, as fighting even a few orcs with naught weapons but a stout dagger would be difficult. He turned towards the mouth of the cave, his intention to check their escape route if needed and in the dim lighting he did not like what he saw. The snow had built to a considerable level in the few hours the two had been inside the cave, leaving only small space between the top of the low cave entrance and the drifts of snow beyond. Even against the overwhelming odds, fighting suddenly seemed like a much better option.

Confident that the orcs did not know of their presence Legolas backed into a darkened nook of the cave, pulling a soggy but sturdy lump of firewood with him to use as a weapon. Aragorn followed suit, blending in with the natural contours of the cave and drawing his stout dagger, silently awaiting the evil creatures. 

The dark beasts made their way noisily towards the entrance of the cave, completely oblivious to the two whom made themselves one with the walls around them. Stealth and surprise worked to the travelers' favour as they waited until the last of the orcs had passed them by and had begun to dig their way out into the snow that nearly blocked the low entrance. With a battle cry of old the pair pushed from their hidden locations, brandishing their weapons at the small band before them. Startled and taken completely by surprise the orcs had little chance to grab their weapons before the two warriors were upon them. Aragorn wielded the dagger with the grace of one who had been instructed in the martial arts by elves, slashing with deadly accuracy at the hideous faces before him. Legolas however had slightly more difficulty with his choice of weapon; all the sturdy piece of timber was really good for was clubbing orcs on the back of the head and blocking the now incoming orc blades. With little of his usual Elven grace the Prince dodged and parried the blows, striking and clubbing where he could to gain the offensive.

Aragorn was having an easier time, slicing and blocking with his stout blade, always on the offensive and pushing the orcs further towards the now blocked entrance. Things were going well for the ranger, the orcs fell swiftly beneath his blade until a heavy blow slammed into his shoulder, causing the human to stumble and stagger off balance. He whirled to face this new threat, biting back the pain that lanced down his entire left side and the orc raised its evil blade in response to his silent challenge. The duel was fierce but short-lived as Aragorn, though still reeling from the previous blow and having lost the use of his left arm, landed several vicious blows upon his enemy. 

Slowly and painstakingly the two warriors wore down the group of orcs till no more than two remained standing. Aragorn struck the deathblow first, managing to put the creature off balance long enough to deliver a fatal blow to its midsection before turning to assist his companion. It was then he saw the lone orc archer in the dimness of the tunnel, nocking its arrow and sighting the fair elf as its target. Before the ranger could even sound a cry of warning the arrow streaked towards his companion, who was completely oblivious to its presence as he finally clubbed his orc on the side of the head, neatly incapacitating it. Time seemed to stand still for Aragorn as the watched the arrow seem to home in on its target, he saw Legolas' grim smile of victory directed towards him, the relief that the battle was over etched across the elf's features. Relief turned to question as the Prince saw Aragorn dive towards him, and then to shock as the ranger collided with his midsection, dragging the elf to the ground. The arrow whizzed beside Aragorn's head and he quickly turned his head to gaze towards the archer. He sized up the distance and angle in an instant and let fly with his dagger, supremely hoping that the archer was indeed the last straggler of the orc band. The creature fell with a shrill cry, the knife imbedding itself further into the fell creatures' chest as it fell forward onto the blade, ending its miserable life. He listened for a moment more, straining his ears to hear if any more of the band still lurked in the cave.

Hearing nothing and overjoyed that there were no more orcs to greet them, he turned his attention once more to his companion. Closed eyes and ragged breathing greeted him as the ranger slowly rose from his protective position. He almost wondered if he had winded the elf with his tackle, for surely the arrow had missed, he had even felt it ruffle his hair as it passed close. Unless it was too close. Glancing quickly down the elf's body to his horror he found he arrow deeply imbedded within his friends' right shoulder, a growing crimson stain darkly colouring the tatters of the shirt that covered the elf's chest. Cursing softly to himself Aragorn carefully turned his companion over, and despite the searing pain his own injury was causing him, set about tending to his friend.

__

Whatever life brings

I've been through everything

And I'm on my knees again.

But I know I must go on,

Although I hurt I must be strong

To Be Continued

PS... I suck at fight sequences!!


	14. Hope and Ale

Title - Cling and Clatter - Chapter 14 - Hope and Ale

Author - Jules

Summery - On their way back to Rivendell, Aragorn and Legolas get holed up in a cave with a not-too-friendly group of orcs.

Disclaimer - I don't own tolkein's works, I just play with them nicely :) The lyrics in this chapter are from Robbie Williams' song Feel

Authors Notes - This is part 14 of a series, it would make sense to read the first 13 chapters before going any further. 

Dedication - To Sonbon, the RatPak girls, Katie, and all my reviewers. THANKS!!! Special thanks to Snitter in Rivendell, Pheonix, Conn JS and Sonni for their continued support through the writing of this fic.

****

Hope and Ale

__

Come and hold my hand,

I want to contact the living

Not sure I understand

This role I've been given

Aragorn steadfastly ignored the stabbing pain followed by the complete numbness of his shoulder as he set about removing the arrow from Legolas' shoulder. He silently thanked Iluvatar that the elf was unconscious as he tore at the tattered shirt, revealing the tip to be completely imbedded within the hard muscle of his friends' body. 

The sounds of moving feet echoed down to cavern, reaching Aragorn's ears and making him bitterly afraid that there were more orcs coming towards them. It would make sense if the cave was a dwelling for a group of orcs, the main party would send out more scouts in the instance that the first lot failed to return from their mission. The King of Gondor shuddered at the thought of fighting yet more orcs and knew that he had no chance of defending himself and the still from of the elf. Gritting his feet he pulled the archer one handedly close to the wall, hoping his companion was out of sight and would be overlooked by the incoming creatures. Aragorn took up a defensive position, deep within the dark shadows and as far out of sight as he could possibly be. Yet it was not the shrill cries of orcs and goblins that greeted his ears, more though the rough abrasive voice of the dwarf people.

" Valin, Valin Cloudhammer! Holler if ye can hear me laddy!" the voice echoed down the passageway, making Aragorn nearly giddy with relief. The dwarves must have been excavating the caves looking for gems, gold and mithril when the orcs invaded. Still slightly apprehensive as to the intentions of the dwarfs the human remained hidden until the stocky folk unintentionally found the blonde hair of Legolas in the gloom and headed in the direction of his fallen comrade. 

" Touch him and your lives will be forfeit" Aragorn growled as the dwarves poked Legolas none too gently, seeing if he was still alive. He drew out of his hiding place, brandishing his dagger dangerously with his right hand and advancing to where he had thought was a good hiding place for the elf. The dwarves reacted out of instinct, the few of them who had blades reaching for them at the unwelcome tone. 

"And who might you be?" the lead dwarf asked suspiciously as he hefted his axe. Aragorn saw no need to conceal his true identity and revealed his name and the manner of their circumstance. The dwarves seem to consider this for moment before seeming to agree that what the ranger had told them was indeed the truth and reciprocated, each dwarf identifying himself. After the stocky folk were done with the introductions the leader of the small pack gave Aragorn the abbreviated version of how they had managed to be captured within their own tunnels by the orcs, and left bound hand and foot while the orcs plundered their treasures. When they were done taking all they thought of value the dark creatures had left, leaving the dwarves still bound and heading towards the cave entrance where they met the elf and the human. 

" These are your caves then? You have supplies? My companion is injured more severely than what I can heal" Aragorn implored when the dwarves finished their tale, hoping to illicit some kind of sympathy from the raggedy bunch. 

" Is he not an elf? With magical healing powers? Can he not heal himself?" the dwarves asked, a tinge of old hatred colouring their low voices.

" Aye he is an elf, but one who has been through much torment. If we do not tend to his wounds soon, he will surely perish" Aragorn said quietly, not exaggerating the seriousness of the situation the Elf was in. Aragorn had only been partially able to remove the arrow from his friends' body, leaving a large bleeding wound and the arrowhead still firmly imbedded within the strong muscle. The dwarves muttered among themselves for a moment, their disdain for the elf and his kind obvious and they mulled over their options.

" I suppose he might die here and leave a horrible mess" the one who called himself Bombur spat, still not comfortable at the thought of helping an elf. "Bring him back, we have a few supplies that might in saving the miserable creatures' immortal life" Bombur indicated towards the tunnel from where they had appeared and gestured for his fellow dwarves to aid Aragorn in carrying the still form of the elf Prince back to their spartan living quarters. 

A short time later the small group entered what was left of the dwarves' living area, and the sight was not one Aragorn wished to lay eyes upon often. Broken belongings lay everywhere and what little furniture the dwarves had created for themselves lay shattered and strewn about the small cavern. Cabinets were smashed, jewel boxes pillaged and heirlooms raided, yet the dwarves seemed not intent on revenge; yet. There was another small group of dwarves in the area when they entered, each tending to each other's wounds and trying vainly to sift through the wreckage in hopes of finding their things intact. 

Their eyes were instantly suspicious as the elf was carried into the cavern, their pain-filled gazes following the pale form constantly as he was hefted through the room and onto a small bed that was almost intact. With a surprising amount of care the dwarves lowered the limp elf onto the thin mattress, minding his bleeding shoulder and stepped quickly out of the way as Aragorn gingerly lowered himself to finish working on the wound. He drew his blade again, still stained with orc blood and elvish blood and rinsed it in a bowl of clean water that appeared next to him before sitting the sturdy dagger in the heat of the fire that had been built up behind him. The small fire flickered as the dwarves moved about, gently warming the frigid air and casting a warm glow around the chamber. Once the blade was glowing the King removed it from the flames, and motioned for a several of the dwarves to aid him for a moment. 

" Hold him down if you could, he may resist" Aragorn said quietly as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do. The arrowhead had gone deep into the muscle of the elf's shoulder, and being an orc arrow, it would have barbs that caused more injury when the arrow was removed. The dwarves seemed unconvinced that the limp and silent elf could resist much in his current state, but did as the human bid, one each holding a shoulder down, while another held the elf's hands and yet another knelt on his legs. Pressing the blade down into the muscle surrounding the tip Aragorn forced the bile down in his throat and steadfast ignored the smell of roasting flesh, continuing to work even as the elf's body bucked and writhed beneath him, even in unconsciousness his friend's body reacted to the new trauma and fought to rid itself of the new intrusion. 

Finally the barbed tip was removed and the human packed the rapidly bleeding wound with clean rags that were handed to him by Bombur. The body beneath him stilled and the dwarves released their strong grips, allowing Legolas to recline unrestrained on the mattress. A needle and thread were pressed into one of Aragorn's hands and he quickly thanked the dwarf for his thoughtfulness. The small needle was placed in the warm fire for an instant, and removed the instant it glowed bright orange and was then set to work in casting a small series of stitches across the bleeding wound into the fair skin on either side of the gaping hole. Finally finished the human tied off the last of the stitches and sat back from his unconscious friend, utterly spent with the effort of saving the elf's life. 

Meanwhile Bombur had not missed the humans' virtually one handed stitching effort and had also noticed the way the man's left arm barely moved. Walking up behind the exhausted King he gentled felt the tight and swollen muscle that was the man's shoulder. The dwarf ignored the sharp hiss of pain when his fingers probed the socket of the joint, and knew instantly what had to be done. He pressed one of the few unbroken bottles of ale into the man's good hand, instructing him to drink as much as he dared before the stout dwarf pushed the joint back together. The human moaned in agony as the bones shifted then popped back into place, almost passing out completely as the rush of blood returned to his battered hand, sending a fire of pins and needles down his arm and through his fingers. He groaned again as the dwarves maneuvered a large crate behind him, pulling him back to rest against the smooth surface and covering him with a blanket as the waves of darkness took the man completely. 

To Be Continued...


	15. Unexpected Turns

Title - Cling and Clatter - Chapter 15 - Unexpected Turns

Authors - Jules

Rating - PG

Summery - Still caught in the dwarven cave. Legolas and Aragorn find themselves some most unexpected allies.

Disclaimer - They do... I don't.

Authors Notes - Cripes... its been a while. This chapter doesn't quite flow as well as some of the others, but hey, my muse only visits rarely so I take full advantage when she lobs! This follows from the other 14 odd chapters, which follows on from my previous fic Faded Ashes.

Dedication - To Katie, who finally made me find Ms Muse (albiet only shortly), Minka, and Sonbon, you girls keep me sane!

Unexpected Turns

Darkness consumed his vision, the blackness swirling lazily in front of him, obliterating all colour and leaving only his hearing and other senses to tie him to the waking world. Coldness invaded his feeling of touch, making his body shiver and perspire alternatively. His joints ached with fever, his mind foggy with delerium, and on top of this, his eyes still refused to open and dispel the insistent darkness. He was unaware exactly how long he lingered within this state, the blackness swirling from all-consuming to just plain annoying and leaving the elf with little sense of time passing.

Aragorn pushed his own sense of blackness away from his mind as the slow ache of a healing injury lurched its way into his semi-conscious thought. He was leaning against something solid but very uncomfortable, yet when he tried to adjust this somewhat dodgy position his shoulder throbbed incessantly. Gritting his teeth against the pain, the Ranger struggled to sit up and forced his eyes to take in his surroundings. Legolas was still blissfully unconscious, sweat sheeting off his body as the dwarves tended his ailing figure. Just how long he had sat between full wakefulness and dazed thoughts the King did not know, but it was a pair of lilting voices that drew him rapidly to full awareness.

"Brother! How in the name of the Valar did you end up here? We have been searching for months!!" the dark figure on the left exclaimed as they entered the large cavern, drawing up short when a series of axes and pikes were arranged aggressively in front of them.

"Peace my friends, these are my brothers" Aragorn slurred through the throbbing of his shoulder. The dwarves look unconvinced as the two elves tried to placate the stout beings with words of peace. A battle of wills ensued, the dwarves brandishing their few weapons and the two newcomers offering words of reassurance and assistance in their plight. Eventually the words of Aragorn and the elves wore away the defensiveness of the smaller folk who were still on guard after being ambushed by orcs. Finally allowed entrance Elladan pushed his way over to Legolas, maneuvering between the dwarves to better access the fallen elf's condition. Elrohir meanwhile moved straight over to Aragorn, taking in his glazed eyes and strapped arm before his eyes fell on the tatters of clothing and near starving condition. The regal elf swore under his breath as the full extent of Aragorn's ails befell him, shock and disbeleif crossing his features before the finely school neutral mask dropped into place.

"Elrohir... how... when?" The King spoke slowly, trying to force his pain hazed mind to focus on this very unexpected turn of events. The last thing he remembered was stitching Legolas' shoulder, then having Bombur pop in his own dislocated shoulder. How the twins came to arrive he didn't know, but one thing was for certain, he was very glad they had.

" Father sent us to search for you when you failed to return from the Lorien months ago. The Lady of the Wood said you had left to trail Legolas who had also failed to return from his quest. We've been looking for you ever since" Elrohir said quietly by way of an explanation. He opened his pack as he spoke and pulled out a number of healing herbs, handing a sprig of something brown and shriveled to Aragorn to chew. Once satisfied the human was indeed chewing the pain-relieving herb Elrohir continued.

"We headed for Mirkwood, where we knew Legolas had been heading and we found your tracks there several days ago, but lost them again in the snow. We sheltered in a nearby cave when a rather nasty snowstorm hit, it seemed to have led into the same one you ended up in." the elf murmured, expertly probing Aragorn's shoulder as he spoke and steadfastly ignoring any hisses of pain from the human. His gentle hands probed the rest of the ranger's torso, his skilled fingers feeling for any breaks, fractures or unhealed injuries as they traveled lightly over the stretched skin. Finding nothing more serious than a bad case of malnutrition and a dislocated shoulder which was on the way to mending, the lean elf turned his attention to where his twin was still hunched over Legolas.

Elladan also swore in a manner most unbecoming of an elf lord as he assessed the Prince of Mirkwoods' condition. The fair elf was far more pale than natural, his skin diaphoretic and clammy, a stitched but infected wound covering the sunken muscle of his shoulder, and his overall condition also approaching that of near-starvation. He sensed Elrohir's eyes upon him and glanced around, noting this his brother held their pack. A small gesture bought both the elf and the pack to his side, his twin's brow furrowing in concern at the state of the two they had finally found. Together they worked mixing a salve from herbs and water from their waterskin, spreading the thin mixture over the oozing wound to fight the poison that was more than probably coursing through the royal elf's veins. Elladan also tipped a small amount of freshly made herb-draft down the fallen elf's throat, carefully positioning his head and upper torso so the liquid flowed uninterrupted to the other's stomach.

Aragorn, even in his somewhat dazed state noticed the change in demenour as his brothers worked over the still form of his best friend. He wouldn't describe it as frantic, no not at all, it was more like serious concern that filled their movements. They spoke very little, which told one who knew them volumes about the way of their hearts. The human slowly shifted his position and made his way over to the trio, ignoring the watchful eyes of the dwarves as he did so. His muscles ached and shuddered, making each step heinously long and agonising, but concern for his friend pressed him forward.

Finally he reached the twins' side, awkwardly lowering himself next to the bed and taking one of the Legolas' hands in his own. He risked a glance at his brothers and noticed the concern that has indeed laced their dark features. They were clearly worried about the Mirkwood elf, and that in itself did not bode well. Words were not needed as Aragorn asked with a glance as to his friend's condition.

" It does not go well dear brother. His shoulder is infected and a high fever courses through his veins. The shoulder we have treated, but the fever is yet to break. The fact that he is critically weak to start off with does not help matters. The same goes for you"

Elrohir reached behind him into the pack, pulling out a small portion of lembas and handing it to his human brother. Although not overly fussed on the Elven waybread the human was so hungry he was past caring and quickly finished the piece then he turned his attention back to his companions, obviously looking for something he could do to help, even in his weakened state. The younger twin noticed the change and decided that if Aragorn was not going to look after himself, someone was going to have to do it for him.

" Estel; rest, we shall look after Legolas. There is little that neither yourself nor we can do to aid him at the present, his body must fight the infection on its own. Sleep and let us care for him. "

Aragorn seemed about to protest when Elladan placed a hand on the King's upper arm.

" Rest, brother, I swear I will wake you if there is any change" 

Although still concerned for his friends' wellbeing, dark edges had begun to creep into the exhausted human's vision, merging and swirling until consciousness fled him and he slumped forward onto Legolas' bed. The twins quickly glanced around to see if any other sleeping material was available, kindly thanked the dwarf who offered them another thin torn mattress, and set their now sleeping brother upon it. Elladan carefully inspected the Ranger's bandaged shoulder for himself before easing back into a sitting position near Legolas' head. The Royal elf was not out of the woods by any means, but his condition had not deteriorated any since their arrival. If anything the elf's fever had dropped slightly, letting him rest somewhat more comfortably in his fever induced state.

Settling themselves more comfortably, the twins gathered themselves for a long and tiring night.

To Be Continued.


End file.
